#mel

My name is Jared Howe. I haven't spoken to another human being in more than two years, so I'm sure I must seem... a little crazy to you. Please, forgive that and tell me your name, anyway." "Melanie," I whisper. "Melanie," he repeats. "I can't tell you how delighted I am to meet you. ↗

— Stephenie Meyer

#melanie #forgiveness

You're in a bad way! Apparently, you have developed a soul. ↗

— Yevgeny Zamyatin

#freedom

ثمة شيء ننساه في زحمة التسابق على حفظ الجُمل الثورية الجميلة. هذا الشيء هو الكرامة الإنسانية. ليس وطني دائماً على حق. ولكنني لا أستطيع أن أمارس حقاً حقيقياً إلا في وطني. ↗

— محمود درويش

#freedom #homeland #rights #freedom

I want to question what the outside is and who defines it. I often find those that are considered to be on the outside extremely inspiring. ↗

— Mira Nair

#defines #extremely #find #i #inspiring

I think the main thing I remembered throughout all of filming it was just that she just was extremely self-destructive. I think everybody can relate to that a little bit. She doesn't like herself. ↗

— Shannyn Sossamon

#everybody #extremely #filming #herself #i

They were friends. That's all she ever seemed to have. Friends. She had enough of them. ↗

— Melissa de la Cruz

#lost-in-time #melissa-de-la-cruz #friendship

A Kiss is a terrible name for a piece of chocolate shaped like a water droplet, because kisses are hot and would melt chocolate—even if it is wearing an astronaut suit made out of tinfoil.
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#chocolate #funny #humor #kiss #melt

Flowers and fear are a lot alike. For one, flowers and fear have a distinct smell, and two, I’m currently trying to grow both in my garden. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#flowers #funny #grow #smell #funny

I want to merge a Phoenix with a Camel to create the world's first everlasting cigarette. It'll be a cigarette that rises from its own ashes, so you can keep smoking it indefinitely. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#cigarette #everlasting #funny #humor #immortality

Stigmata of Love A light which lives on what the flames devour, a grey landscape surrounding me with scorch, a crucifixion by a single wound, a sky and earth that darken by each hour, a sob of blood whose red ribbon adorns a lyre without a pulse, and oils the torch, a tide which stuns and strands me on the reef, a scorpion scrambling, stinging in my chest-- this is the wreath of love, this bed of thorns is where I dream of you stealing my rest, haunting these sunken ribs cargoed with grief. I sought the peak of prudence, but I found the hemlock-brimming valley of your heart, and my own thirst for bitter truth and art. ↗

— Federico García Lorca

#melancholy #pain #art