#ena

I think it's something like Mr. Peter Sloane and the octogenarians. The other evening Mrs. Sloane was reading a newspaper ans she said to Mr. Sloane 'I see here that another octogenarian has just died. What is an Octogenarian, Peter?' And Mr. Sloane said he didn't know, but they must be very sickly creatures, for you never heard tell of them but they were dying. ↗

— L.M. Montgomery

#dying #funny #octogenarian #funny

True love is a developed and intense appreciation for someone. It’s that perfect awareness that you are finally whole when she’s with you, and that hollow incompleteness you suffer when she’s gone. ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#derian #devotion #eena #incompleteness #love

If hot food is they key to maintaining an expedition's stamina, then low grade gut-rot alcohol is the key to sustaining its sense of pleasure. ↗

— Tahir Shah

#alcohol #expedition #food #journey #pleasure

You sure are quick to strip, boy,” Dad said, clearly disapproving. “Lemme get this straight. ↗

— Shannon Delany

#wolf #love

Alright,” he admitted, “So I’m not everything you’d hoped for. But really, what man can ever live up to any woman’s terribly high expectations?” This got her attention. She almost stood up to face him, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Leaning forward, she retorted, “Expecting a man to respect you, to be honest with you, and, oh yes, to not be a murderer! I don’t think those are overly high expectations!” He shrugged, casually excusing his faults. “Nobody’s perfect.” “Gemdorin, what do you want?” she asked, exasperated. He plainly stated his desire. “I want you. ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#deceit #desire #eena #expectations #love

This whole time, I wasn't waiting for something in particular. Just someone who wanted me. Not sex. But me. ↗

— Diana Peterfreund

#rape #sad #sex #teenagers #love

Love is the linchpin that connects the material world with higher levels of existence. ↗

— Julianne Davidow

#italy #love #renaissance #spiritual-world #love

Love enables mutual trust among strangers. ↗

— Toba Beta

#love #mutual-trust #strangers #love

umm... abit gross it kinda about boyfriend and girlfriend kinda going throw then they break up then they love each other then they make up again and the girl father said u have to come home until 9pm but the girls want more time to be with her boyfriend :) ↗

— Jacqueline Wilson

#happy #teenage-stuff #love

At eighteen, she already looks like a woman of sorrows and as her breaths start becoming shorter, tired of looking over her shoulder, she only wants to get away from this city where no one can fathom her love- boundless and profane and real, like her skin and her lips and the insides of her thighs. She knows she can smile, smell like the others. Her skin would bleed too if pricked and yet this reality does not belong to the ones sleeping on the platform floor; this reality is hers and her alone. Thus when she puts the mirror back, she rummages in her handbag, searching for that thing called identity: some of it lost somewhere in the railway colony she had just left behind, some in Sudhanshu’s left jacket pocket, the rest of it scattered here around broken teacups on railings, totally aberrant and arbitrary. ↗

— Kunal Sen

#suicidal #teenager #love