Carpe Diem

[mournfulroses]

Rainer Maria Rilke, from "Letters to a Young Poet," originally published in 1929

[marions--square]

"Sometimes I shrink from your knowing what I have felt for you, and sometimes I am distressed that all of it you never will know."

- Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy

[luthienne]

“Your loneliness is precious to you, I know. Does it disturb you to know you are dear to me? Do not let it. It is such a quiet feeling. It is like the light coming into a room—moonlight—”

— Katherine Mansfield, in a letter to J.M. Murry, dated December 14, 1919

[nickpapag]

“I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know that there’s nothing but light when I see you.”

--Shinji Moon

[fateofgrace]

coco mellors, cleopatra and frankenstein.

[classicbooks101]

Kristyna was so shy, so delicate, that love's functions lost their names in her presence. He dared use only the language of breathing and touching. Weren't they beyond the heaviness of words? Wasn't he burning within her?

The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, Milan Kundera

[theglasschild]

You don't have to be scared to lose someone, when there's no one around to lose. – Charlotte Eriksson, Empty Roads & Broken Bottles; in search for The Great Perhaps

[hxlsbrwc-deactivated20251021]

“She was beautiful, but not like those girls in magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.”

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

[surqrised]

“You kiss me with your mouth wide open like you’re not afraid of swallowing poison. I taste the good and bad in you and want them both. We call this bravery.”

— Anita Ofokansi, Literary Sexts

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

I am destroying myself so other people can't," she said, " and it's the worst kind of control but it's the only form I know.

— via sofijasofia

[poetryofmuses]

I am convinced no one will speak about me the way Mahmoud Darwish said "They asked ‘do you love her to death?’ I said ‘speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life'."

[weltenwellen]

Franny Choi, from “Waste”, The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On

[hxlsbrwc-deactivated20251021]

“When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don't seem to matter very much, do they?”

—Virginia Woolf

[quotefeeling]

“Isn’t it strange that we talk least about the things we think about most?”

— Charles Lindbergh

[derangedrhythms]

Do you like it, that there’s always someone longing for you, in the night?

Sarah Waters, from ‘The Little Stranger’

[derangedrhythms]

I’ll hide your name in every word. 

Anne Carson, Decreation: Poetry, Essays, Opera; from ‘H&A Screenplay’

[journalofanobody]

And I do, in every poem I write. --Michael

[nssrnv-deactivated20230626]

“If you could lick my heart, / it would poison you”

— Charles Hood, from Partially Excited States