"All my heart is yours, sir; it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever."
â Jane Eyre, Charlotte BrontÃĢ.
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Sade Olutola
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
KIROKAZE
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d e v o n
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Aqua UtopiaīŊæĩˇãŽåēã§č¨æļãį´Ąã
Jules of Nature

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tannertan36
DEAR READER

Love Begins
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@mrsgiraffey
"All my heart is yours, sir; it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever."
â Jane Eyre, Charlotte BrontÃĢ.
"Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agonised as in that hour left my lips; for never may you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love."
â Jane Eyre, Charlotte BrontÃĢ.
"āύāĻŋāĻā§āϰ āĻŽāύā§āϰ āĻāϞā§āϤ⧠āĻĒāϰā§āϰ āϏāĻŽāĻžāϞā§āĻāύāĻž āϏāϤā§āϝāĻ āĻāĻžāϞ⧠āύāϝāĻŧāĨ¤"
â āĻāϤā§āώā§āĻā§āĻŖ, āĻŽāĻžāύāĻŋāĻ āĻŦāύā§āĻĻā§āϝā§āĻĒāĻžāϧā§āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧāĨ¤
āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āĻāĻ āĻāϞā§āĻĒā§āϰ āĻŽā§āϞ āĻāϰāĻŋāϤā§āϰā§āϰ āϏāĻŽāĻžāϞā§āĻāύāĻž āĻāĻŽāĻŋ āĻāϰāĻŦāĻ, āĻāĻžāϰāĻŖ āĻŦā§āϝāĻžāĻāĻž āĻāĻāĻāĻž āϏāĻŋāĻ āĻĒāĻžāϰā§āϏāύāĨ¤
"Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves."
â Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte.
"Revolutions can, and often have, begun with reading."
â The Doctor and the Saint, Arundhati Roy.
"Engineers must show proficiency, doctors must show proficiency, lawyers must show proficiency, before they are allowed to practise their professions. During the whole of their career, they must not only obey the law of the land, civil as well as criminal, but they must also obey the special code of morals prescribed by their respective professions. The priest's is the only profession where proficiency is not required. Their professions are not subject to any code."
â Annihilation of Caste, B. R. Ambedkar.
That explains all the misogyny they spread every Friday after the jummah prayers. And they aren't even held accountable for this. Apparently, this applies to every religion.
"So much death; so much destruction: what was it all for?"
â Flood of Fire, Amitav Ghosh.
"Why does even the best person hold back something from another? Why not say directly what we feel if we know that what we entrust won't be scattered to the winds? As it is, everyone looks much tougher than he really is, as if he felt it'd be an insult to his feelings if he expressed them too readilyâ"
â White Nights, Fyodor Dostoevsky.
"My God, a moment of bliss. Why, isn't that enough for a whole lifetime?"
â White Nights, Fyodor Dostoevsky.
What if I'm not okay with only a moment of bliss? What if I want a lifetime with you?
"But how could you live and have no story to tell?"
â White Nights, Fyodor Dostoevsky.
'Gods are great,' said Atsula, slowly, as if she were comprehending a great secret. 'But the heart is greater. For it is from our hearts they come, and to our hearts they shall return...'
â American Gods, Neil Gaiman.
"āϏāĻāϞā§āϰ āĻāĻā§ āĻā§āĻāĻā§ āĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻāϰāϤ⧠āĻšāĻŦā§, āϤā§āĻŽāĻŋ āĻā§? āĻāĻžāĻāĻāĻŋ, āĻŽāύ⧠āϰā§āĻā§, āϏāĻŦ āĻā§āĻāĻāĻžāĻā§āĻāĻāĻŋāϰ āĻŽāϧā§āϝ⧠āĻŦāĻĄāĻŧ āĻšāϞ āύāĻŋāĻā§āĻā§ āĻā§āĻāĻāĻžāĨ¤"
âāĻŽāύā§āϰ āĻŽāĻžāύā§āώ, āϏā§āύā§āϞ āĻāĻā§āĻā§āĻĒāĻžāϧā§āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧāĨ¤
"āϝ⧠āĻā§āύāĻ āĻāĻāĻāύā§āϰ āĻŽāϰ⧠āϝāĻžāĻāϝāĻŧāĻžāĻāĻž āĻāĻŋāĻā§āĻ āύāĻž, āϰā§āĻāĻ āĻŽāϰāĻā§āĨ¤ āĻāϞāϤ⧠āĻāϞāϤ⧠āĻāĻāĻŦāĻžāϰ 'āĻāĻšāĻž' āĻŦāϞāϞā§āĻ āĻĢā§āϰā§āϞ, āĻāĻŋāύā§āϤ⧠āϝā§-āĻāĻāύ āϤāĻžāϤ⧠āĻĻā§āĻāĻ āĻĒāĻžāϝāĻŧ, āϤāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻĻā§āĻāĻā§āϰ āĻŽāϤ⧠āĻĻā§āĻāĻ āύā§āĻ, āύāĻŋāĻā§āϰ āĻĻā§āĻāĻ āĻāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āĻĻā§āĻāĻ āύā§āĻ...āϏā§āĻāĻžāĻ āĻļā§āϧ⧠āĻĻā§āĻāĻ, āĻ āύā§āϝāϏāĻŦ āĻāĻŦāϰ, āĻāĻāύāĻž, āĻāĻĨāĻž āĻŦāϞāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻŋāώāϝāĻŧāĨ¤"
â āϤāĻŋāĻĨāĻŋāĻĄā§āϰ, āĻŦā§āĻĻā§āϧāĻĻā§āĻŦ āĻŦāϏā§āĨ¤
I wish I didn't know this reality, but unfortunately, I do.
"āĻā§āĻ āĻāĻžāύ⧠āύāĻž āĻā§āĻĨāĻžāϝāĻŧ āϝāĻžāĻā§āĻā§, āĻāĻāϞāĻž āϏ⧠āĻāĻžāύā§āĨ¤ āĻāĻāϞāĻž āϏ⧠āĻāĻžāύ⧠āϝ⧠āĻā§āĻŦāύā§āϤ āĻŽāĻžāύā§āώāϰāĻžāĻ āĻŽāϰāύā§āϤ, āϝāĻžāϰāĻž āĻŦā§āĻāĻā§ āĻāĻā§, āϤāĻžāϰāĻžāĻ āĻĻāĻŋāύ⧠āĻĻāĻŋāύ⧠āĻŽāϰāĻā§, āĻŽā§āϤā§āϝ⧠āύā§āĻ āĻļā§āϧ⧠āĻŽā§āϤā§āϰāĨ¤ āĻāĻāϞāĻž āϏ⧠āĻāĻžāύ⧠āϝ⧠āĻŽā§āϤā§āϝ⧠āĻāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āϏāϤā§āϝ āύā§āĻ, āϝāϤāĻĻāĻŋāύ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŋ āĻāϰ, āϝā§āĻŽāύ āĻāϰ⧠āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŋ āĻŽā§āϤā§āϝā§āĻā§ āĻāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻĒāĻžāϞāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻŦā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻ, āĻāϰ āϏā§āĻ āĻĒāĻžāϞāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻŦā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāύā§āϰ āύāĻžāĻŽāĻ āĻā§āĻŦāύāĨ¤ āĻāϰ āĻāĻ āĻā§āĻŦāύâāĻāϤ⧠āĻĻā§āĻāĻāĻ āϏāϤā§āϝ, āĻĻā§āĻāĻāĻ āύāĻŋāĻļā§āĻāĻŋāϤ āĻāϰ āϏā§āĻĨāĻŋāϰāĨ¤ āϝāϤāĻā§āώāĻŖ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŋ āĻāϰ āϝā§āĻŽāύ āĻāϰ⧠āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŋ āĻāĻŽāϰāĻž āϤāĻžāĻā§ āĻāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻ, āĻĢāĻžāĻāĻāĻŋ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧā§ āĻŦā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻ āĻāϰ āϏā§āĻ āĻĢāĻžāĻāĻāĻŋāϰ āύāĻžāĻŽāĻ...āϏā§āĻ, āĻāĻļāĻž, āĻāĻā§āĻāĻžāĨ¤"
â āϤāĻŋāĻĨāĻŋāĻĄā§āϰ, āĻŦā§āĻĻā§āϧāĻĻā§āĻŦ āĻŦāϏā§āĨ¤
"āϝā§āĻāĻž āύā§āĻ, āϏā§āĻāĻžāĻ āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻĻā§āϰ āĻŽāύ⧠āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧā§āĨ¤ āϝā§āĻāĻž āĻāĻā§, āϏā§āĻāĻž āϤ⧠āĻāĻā§āĻāĨ¤"
"āϤāĻž āĻšāϞ⧠āϤ⧠'āύā§āĻ'āĻāĻžāĻ āĻāĻžāϞā§āĨ¤"
"āĻā§āύ? āĻŽāύ⧠āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻāĻžāĻ āĻāĻžāϞ⧠āĻŦā§āĻāĻŋ?"
â āϤāĻŋāĻĨāĻŋāĻĄā§āϰ, āĻŦā§āĻĻā§āϧāĻĻā§āĻŦ āĻŦāϏā§āĨ¤
"āϤāĻŦā§ āĻāĻŋ āĻāĻžāϰāĻ āĻāύā§āϝ āĻāĻŋāĻā§ āĻāϏ⧠āϝāĻžā§ āύāĻž āĻā§āĻĨāĻžāĻ?"
â āϤāĻŋāĻĨāĻŋāĻĄā§āϰ, āĻŦā§āĻĻā§āϧāĻĻā§āĻŦ āĻŦāϏā§āĨ¤
"Can I forget someone I never knew?"
â A Feast for Crows, George R. R. Martin