"i wish the sky would rain down roses, as they rain from off the shaken bush. why will it not?"
“Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.”
The Princess Bride, William Goldman (via larmoyante)
“Yes, yes,” said the Beast, “my heart is good, but still I am a monster.” “Among mankind,” says Beauty, “there are many that deserve that name more than you, and I prefer you, just as you are, to those, who, under a human form, hide a treacherous, corrupt, and ungrateful heart.”
Beauty and the Beast, Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont
“Think how you love me,” she whispered. “I don’t ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me there’ll always be the person I am tonight.”
Tender Is the Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald
“She began to whisper something in my ear. It’s the strangest thing about poetry - you can tell it’s poetry, even if you don’t speak the language. You can hear Homer’s Greek without understanding a word, and you still know it’s poetry. I’ve heard Polish poetry, and Inuit poetry, and I knew what it was without knowing. Her whisper was like that. I didn’t know the language, but her words washed through me, perfect, and in my mind’s eye I saw towers of glass and diamond; and people with eyes of the palest green; and, unstoppable, beneath every syllable, I could feel the relentless advance of the ocean.”
How to Talk to Girls at Parties, Neil Gaiman
Enn & Triolet
Boy: What's your name?
Girl: Triolet.
Boy: Pretty name.
Triolet: (Proudly) It's a verse form. Like me.
Boy: You're a poem?
Triolet: (Smiles, and looks down and away, perhaps bashfully)
Boy: You're a poem?
Triolet: (Chews lower lip) If you want. I am a poem, or I am a pattern, or a race of people whose world was swallowed by the sea.
Boy: Isn't it hard to be three things at the same time?
Triolet: What's your name?
Boy: Enn.
Triolet: So you are Enn. And you are a male. And you are biped. Is it hard to be three things at the same time?
B: Do you know what a poem is?
E: No, what?
B: A piece of dust.
“If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.”
Rosemary Urquico
“The love that lasts longest is the love that is never returned.”
Somerset Maugham
“Nothing is more curious and awkward than the relationship of two people who only know each other with their eyes - who meet and observe each other daily, even hourly and who keep up the impression of disinterest either because of morals or because of a mental abnormality. Between them there is listlessness and pent-up curiosity, the hysteria of an unsatisfied, unnaturally suppressed need for communion and also a kind of tense respect. Because … desire is a product of lacking knowledge.”
Death in Venice and Other Tales, Thomas Mann
“How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.”
Dracula, Bram Stoker
“Second hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack.”
Virginia Woolf (via creationoftheday)
(via a-moreux)
“You know how easily and suddenly these things happen, beginning in playful teasing and ending in something a little warmer than friendship. You squeeze the slender arm which is passed through yours, you venture to take the little gloved hand, you say good night at absurd length in the shadow of the door. It is innocent and very interesting, love trying his wings in a first little flutter.”
The Stark Munro Letters, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
“When I like people immensely I never tell their names to anyone. It is like surrendering a part of them. I have grown to love secrecy … The commonest thing is delightful if one only hides it. It is a silly habit, I daresay, but somehow it seems to bring a great deal of romance into one’s life.”
The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
“Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so.”
Henry Drummond
You see, merry Phillis, that dear little maid,
Has invited Belinda to tea;
Her nice little garden is shaded by trees—
What pleasanter place could there be?
There’s a cake full of plums, there are strawberries too,
And the table is set on the green;
I’m fond of a carpet all daisies and grass—
Could a prettier picture be seen?
