#page

if you’ve found meaning in your life, you don’t want to go back. You want to go forward. You want to see more, do more. ↗

— Mitch Albom

#life

We do not want to comprehend that people may and do die of emotional pain, or to recognize the terror in ourselves when we cannot seem to help someone in despair -- when our words are empty. ↗

— Jill Bialosky

#jill-bialosky #page- #life

We're all born an empty page. ↗

— Lauren DeStefano

#life #page #story #life

You roll back to me. ↗

— Ernest Hemingway

#love #page- #love

I always loved you, Will, whatever you did. And now I need you to do for me what I cannot do for myself. For you to be my eyes when I do not have them. For you to be my hands when I cannot use my own. For you to be my hear when mine is done with beating. No, said Will wildly. No, no, no. I will not be those things. Your eyes will see, your hands will feel, your hear will continue to beat. But if not, Will- If I could tear myself in half, I would-that half of me might remain with you and half follow Tessa- Half of you would be no good to either of us, said Jem. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#clockwork-princess #jem-carstairs #page- #love

Liz?" "Hmmm?" "Why do you care about me?" The question seems to startle me. It's uncharacteristic for Richie, who is usually so cool and self-assured. I open my eyes. "Why would you ask me that?" "Because I don't understand. We're so different." I reach around the side of his face. Once again, I wipe fresh beads of sweat from his forehead. This time, I don't even bother wiping my hands on my pants. I lace my fingers into his again, and the two of us lie together, his damp clamminess seeping onto my made up face and my pretty clothes. Obviously, I couldn't care less. "But we fit," I whisper. "Like this." And I tighten my grip around him. "Mmm." He smiles, his eyes still closed. "You're right. We do." "Richie...I'm lying. I don't like you." "You don't?" His voice cracks. "No." I bring my lips close to his ear. "I love you Richie Wilson. ↗

— Jessica Warman

#love

Alex. ↗

— Lauren Oliver

#last-page #lena #love #love

There I went again, building p a glamorous picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he met me, and all out of a few posy nothings. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#love

When someone doesn't show up, the people who wait sometimes tell stories about what might have happened and come to half believe the desertion, the abduction, the accident. Worry is a way to pretend that you have knowledge or control over what you don't--and it surprises me, even in myself, how much we prefer ugly scenarios to the pure unknown. Perhaps fantasy is what you fill up maps with rather than saying that they too contain the unknown. ↗

— Rebecca Solnit

#nature #page- #nature

It has become much harder, in the past century, to tell where the garden leaves off and pure nature begins. ↗

— Michael Pollan

#nature #page-xxii #nature