#what

You are beautiful no matter what they say, remember words can´t bring you down ↗

— Christina Aguilera

#beautiful-no-matter-what #love #yourself #beauty

Then I wondered, what if? What if he kissed me? What if he told me I was beautiful? What if he told me he loved me? What would I say in return? ↗

— Markelle Grabo

#elves #fantasy #love #speaking #what-if

A lot of things should have been, Zigmund, but they aren’t. Are you going to be miserable about the things you cannot change, or do something about the things you can? ↗

— Melika Dannese Lux

#corcitura #decisions #determination #either-or #fate

The arrival in Paris, as grim as ever. The leprous façades of the Pont Cardinet flats, behind which one invariably imagines retired folk agonizing alongside their cat Poucette which is eating up half their pension with its Friskies. Those weird metal structures that indecently mount each other to form a grid of overhead wires. And the inevitable advertising hoardings flashing by, gaudy and repellent. ‘A gay and changing spectacle on the walls.’ Bullshit. Pure fucking bullshit. ↗

— Michel Houellebecq

#change

Relly fired off the opening riff. Butt laid down the beat, old doom and new joy mixed together. "I wait till I, like fire, shall rise," Jerod sang. And then again, louder, wailing sure and true. I was the last one to join in. I had a bass line all wroked out, of course. I'd been waiting weeks for this momment. My fingers colosed on the strings, pressed them hard to the frets. Butt and Relly were locked in, repeating the four-bar intro. Louder and louder, fierce as a war cry. "Ok," I whispered into the pounding noise. I joined in, doubling Relly at first, then splitting off to coil our riffs together. It was great, it was huge, it was endless. The song rose, churning and sucking everything in like a cyclone. "The will my voice in great goodbyes," Jerod screamed from the speakers. "Join to the chorus of the skies." Silence was inside me, riding the Ghost Metal tornado. Right at the center, at the heart of the song. I didn't need a voice. I had a bass. I didn't need to hear myself talk or sing. Jerod could make the words for me. Or maybe it was Silence herself, pouring out through the PA system. Either way, any way, They were my words. And all the world would hear them. ↗

— Leander Watts

#beauty

Pains are not to be relieved Sorrows are not to fade away a slight change in the vision may bring a new experience ↗

— Rixa White

#experience #oceans-of-illusion #pain #silentaria #sorrow

She had discovered early that what we want out of life can change; that the important thing is to learn to recognize or even simply just to admit what we really want, and then to have the courage to reach for it. ↗

— Candice Proctor

#knowing-what-we-want-in-life #change

Mary got pregnant from a kid named Tom Who said he was in love He said 'Don't worry about a thing, baby doll I'm the man you've been dreaming of,' But three months later He said he won't date her or return her call And she sweared 'God damn, if I find that man I'm cutting off his balls,' And then she heads for the clinic And she gets some static walking through the doors They call her a killer, and they call her a sinner And they call her a whore God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in her shoes Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to choose ↗

— Everlast

#what-it-s-like #dating

But he was sick of this charade. Sick of watching people lose a little more of their humanity each day, and sick to death of seeing people tortured in the name of God. What had happened to these people? ↗

— Brom

#seeing #sick #torture #what-had-happened #death

People have the right to call themselves whatever they like. That doesn't bother me. It's other people doing the calling that bothers me. ↗

— Octavia Butler

#bothers #call #calling #doing #like