Quotes

The quotes,song lyrics,poems and posts that I like💗. In a heck ton of Fandoms so the posts are quite random✨️🦋|side blog|

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A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms,

The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,

The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides,

The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.

-Walt Whitman, Song of myself

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It always hurts more to have and lose than to not have it in the first place.

-Khaled Hosseini,The Kite Runner

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Laila remembered Mammy telling Babi once that she had married a man who had no convictions. Mammy didn't understand. She didn't understand that if she looked into a mirror, she would find the one unfailing conviction of his life looking right back at her.

-Khaled Husseini, A thousand splendid suns

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Ilya wanted to tell Shane that it had been one of the best days of his life. It had been awkward, sure, but Ilya felt that, if he hadn’t quite been already, he would be welcomed into Shane’s family, and that was no small thing. In fact, to Ilya, who had barely been welcome in his own family, it was huge.

-Rachel Reid,Heated Rivalry

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“Would you show me off?” Shane asked quietly. He could feel the heat of Ilya’s gaze even without looking. “I would never stop showing you off,” Ilya said. “If I could.”

-Rachel Reid,The long game

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Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems,You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.

-The Song of Myself, Walt Whitman

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Xiao Chiye once wanted the sky, the grasslands, and also the Hongyan Mountains. He domesticated eagles and tamed horses, and he galloped among the vast lands in the dreams. But in the end, he no longer wanted them all. 

He wanted Shen Zechuan. 

-The ballad of Sword and Wine, Tang jiuqing

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Hairigu’s mother was wounded. It was a wound unseen, a wound called “woman”.

-The ballad of Sword and Wine,Tang Jiuquing

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There are many things that will become your cage if you desire them.

-The ballad of Sword and Wine,Tang Jiuqing

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"It won’t hurt anymore. I promise. Lanzhou will never hurt again."

-The ballad of Sword and Wine,Tang Jiu Qing

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Youths fall in love like a wasteland on a midsummer’s night; ceaseless, unhurt by flames and scythes.With a caress of the breeze, the wild grass scrapes the sky.

-A certain someone,Mu Su Li

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Sometimes a melody sounds like a memory

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Yet,even amidst the hatred and carnage,life is worth living. It is possible for wonderful encounters and beautiful thing to exist

-Hayao Miyazaki

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It was November- the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul.

-L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

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Gray November, I've been down since July.

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I bleed therefore I am

Credit: @/Lancalii on insta(X)

Cogito Ergo Sum

I write ugly things.

That's who I am.

I expel the bad onto paper.

Otherwise it gets stuck in me. Emotional constipation.

That's probably why people hurt each other.

They need to get rid of it. The ache.

Can't keep it in. Easiest way to get rid of hurt is to pass it onto someone else.

Most readers like it though. The hurt.

Look at Bukowski and Hemingway. They're successful. Apart from the alcoholism and suicide.

I don't understand then all that well.

You're too young to understand, they tell me.

I don't know about that.

I think I just don't understand men who create their own suffering.

I've had enough pain. Disease and dead friends and all that.

Good thing for a writer though. To suffer.

Suffering brings validity to narrative.

I hate that.

I hate that perspective only matters if the writer has gone through something horrible.

Suffering adds to character. Solidifies it.

I also hate that.

Identity should not be so fickle.

It should be made of curiosity, interests, relationships, passion and peace.

It should be made, fostered, cared for.

Not victimized.

But maybe that's just the way we are. We must rot so that others will salvage our blossoms.

We must dish out counterfeit pain to remember we are alive.

Mortal.

Look at me, you say, beaten red.

I bleed therefore I am.