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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #marguerite
Love is not temporary. It endures everything even if it changes form. Even when it must be put away to handle harsher things, it's always there, ready to be called. ↗
It's not about fear. It's about never feeling clean, spending years scrubbing your soul raw so you can eat without feeling nauseous, can look in the mirror and meet your own eyes when you put on makeup, brush your hair. To learn to be strong, to run your life and not be a victim of it, knowing in your heart that everything you've built is sitting on a foundation that can sink at any time. And you build it anyway, on faith alone that it won't be shattered, when everything in your life tells you that faith is a fucking joke, but you do it anyway. You do it anyway.(...) ↗
What type of flavor do you think I prefer?" She cocked her head. "The subtle, the delicately made. You're the type of person who wants the mystery inside the flower bud." I can still appreciate the different nuances of the stronger flavors." He studied the orchid in the center of the table. "With the very delicate, you sculpt something down to such a whisper of form, there's nothing else it can be. It's in strength you find surprises, variation. ↗
I want you to make love to me. I want to go to your room, your bed, be under you, feel you inside me, see your eyes, feel your body and know…we're together. I don't know if that's love or just need, but I know I need you. I need that with you. I need what I've never known and I need it from you. Only you. And it may destroy everything or build something. I really don't know. I just know…Please make love to me. ↗
But whatever lies beyond…You've helped me remember why it's worth fighting. Living. Even when the lines get so confusing you think you're losing your mind. ↗
Tyler." She looked up at him. "This is blasphemous." He couldn't resist the heat of his desire, not with her mouth wet with rain and his kiss. Her neck and breasts were beaded with drops while the soft pinkness of her flesh showed through the cotton dress. Lovely, natural. "This isn't sin." He managed the words in a voice thick with want. "It's sacred. Everything I do with you, every touch, every kiss, every word murmured in reverence against your flesh, is sacred. And you're cold. I want to warm you. ↗
Because." He leaned forward, his hand slipping up her back to unerringly trace the scar tissue of the design burned there, now concealed under the robe. "Someone drew you wings a long time ago and you've been trying to decide whether to fly away ever since." <…> "And because when I look at you, I think you're a gift from God. ↗
