We’re all going to die. There’s no way out of it. But if you come to think about it, to not have love and be loved is a pity. Everyone would have died in vain if love did not exist. Men and women are crazy, and sentimental and emotional beings. Oh the things these creatures do for love. I was taken completely aback. I knew how it was going to end but I just kept reading the goddamn book and I just can’t put it down. It’s hard enough to lose someone. But this book made me realized how incredibly painful it is to realize that once your infinite person dies, he takes everything with him. Everything about him disappears. Nothing will be the same. And it’s stupid because there’s no easy way out of it. Everyone is a grenade. And as I continue to think about it over and over again, this melancholy begins to envelope my very soul and I just can’t stop the tears from falling down my eyes. This fault happens everywhere and I love it because this perpetual emotion consistently and persistently reminds me that there are infinities that I could never understand, and I will never try to because it’s all going to be grand. No matter what, it will always be an honor to have my heart broken. Okay? Okay.
a strong female character is one who is defined by her own characteristics, history and personality, and not solely by the actions or needs of other characters. she is a person in the story, not a prop. x
Quotes on Notes | MY TUMBLR BLOG |
There is something oddly satisfying about reading things on actual paper :o
Oftentimes we call Life bitter names, but only when we ourselves are bitter and dark. And we deem her empty and unprofitable, but only when the soul goes wandering in desolate places, and the heart is drunken with overmindfulness of self.
Life is deep and high and distant; and though only your vast vision can reach even her feet, yet she is near; and though only the breath of your breath reaches her heart, the shadow of your shadow crosses her face, and the echo of your faintest cry becomes a spring and an autumn in her breast.
And life is veiled and hidden, even as your greater self is hidden and veiled. Yet when Life speaks, all the winds become words; and when she speaks again, the smiles upon your lips and the tears in your eyes turn also into words. When she sings, the deaf hear and are held; and when she comes walking, the sightless behold her and are amazed and follow her in wonder and astonishment.
|—||Khalil Gibran, The Garden of The Prophet (via observando)|
|—||Tom Perrotta, Election (via feellng)|