I’d write you ninety nine reasons as to why you should leave me and in the hundredth i’d write ‘STAY’
I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here? My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it.—My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.
Emily Brontë, Wuthering heights
"وطن المرء ليس مكان ولادته و لكنه المكان/الذي تنتهي فيه كل محاولاته للهروب"
"Home is not where you are born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease."
“I’m independent and strong, but sometimes…just sometimes, it’s nice to be taken care of.”
— Samantha Towle
That smile across the hall...
God!!!!
It will forever have my heart.
This is what i like about photographs- they are proof that once, even if just for a heartbeat, everything was perfect.
Jodi Picoult
I'd cut my hands on a paring knife if it meant he'd be happy and full of sliced persimmons. I'd happily bleed for him and wouldn't even care, so long as he's okay.
Stiles: come on, I wasn’t that drunk!
Lydia: you tried to color my face with a highlighter because you said I was “important”
Stiles: BECAUSE YOU ARE!!
By your side I am most quite and most unquite, most inhibited and most free.
Franz Kafka
"I knew that someday you would find me. I waited for you, calmly, with boundless impatience. Consume me."
~Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959), Alain Resnais
Nobody:
Me at 3am: *the yearning to be at the rooftop alone (or with someone special) jus' silently staring at the moon and stars.*