#we

I’ve been asking you to marry me since we met! What more do you want? ↗

— Chayada Welljaipet

#eternal-love #romance #romance-love #romance-novel #romance-novels

Hadrian reeked of death. It wasn’t the sort of stench others could smell or that water could wash, but it lingered on him like sweat-saturated pores after a long night of drinking. ↗

— Michael J. Sullivan

#hadrian-blackwater #death

An enemy is like a man's most prized flower. It brings him joy to see it buried in the ground. ↗

— David Gemmell

#enemy #flowers #death

I am hungry for power, but not to lord over others; only to own myself. ↗

— Deborah Feldman

#freedom-of-expression #freedom-of-religion #hunger #jewish #jews

Becky was a weed.  Nobody ever wanted them taking over the bigger, prettier plants.  People went to all extremes to make them go away.  They sprayed poison, pulled until the roots gave way. They felt only like their garden was complete when every tendril was extirpated.  This was how she felt from birth. ↗

— Ruth McLeod-Kearns

#death #drama #family #flowers #love

He was not the type to say that experience is all to the good, that nothing is wasted in life, that everyone we meet and everywhere we go, down to the most squalid, insignificant job we hold, plays a tiny role in making us who we become. ... There were no second chances in his book of life; you simply dipped into yourself and pawned the little that was left from earlier deaths. ↗

— André Aciman

#death

I tell you, say the rich, the poor are naught but dirty wind welling in air-shafts over the cinders and droppings of the past, their voices thick with grease and ordure, sewer-greed to corrode the ear with the horrors of the past and the voids of new stupidity. One could drown waiting for the poor to make one fine distinction. Yes, destroy us say the rich and you lose the roots of God. ↗

— Norman Mailer

#rich #squalor #wealth #death

Life is a wild ride, but that's how we learn about boys. ↗

— Awesome Babe

#love #shayla #life

Wesley Rush was the most disgusting womanizing playboy to ever darken the doorstep of Hamilton High… but he was kind of hot. Maybe if you could put him on mute… and cut off his hands… maybe—just maybe—he’d be tolerable then. Otherwise, he was a real piece of shit. Horn dog shit. ↗

— Kody Keplinger

#wesley #design

We are stripped of all that gave value and substance to our existence: power and love; in this naked final state, our last lover, our mate, death, comes. Bereft, without cover, we face the elements that will undo us. The winter breakers crash over and through us, flaunting their vigor and our nullity, as if the entire cosmos were now taking its ultimate revenge on the human creature who has lived too long: the dying sun mocks us from the west, for it will return tomorrow to die again, but we go down only once; the rising sun mocks us from the east, for we will not share in the rebirth of light and life; the noonday taunts us with its heat and vitality, for we are detritus; the north finally cloaks us in our last vestments: eternal night. That is how it ends. ↗

— Arnold Weinstein

#death #imagination #reading #death