tobegoodagain - Tumblr blog

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It is a frightening thought, that in one fraction of a moment you can fall in the kind of love that takes a lifetime to get over.

Beau Taplin (via thelovejournals)

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L'absence diminue les médiocres passions, et augmente les grandes, comme le vent éteint les bougies et allume le feu.

François de La Rochefoucauld

“Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind blows out a candle and fans a fire”

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Do you love me because I’m beautiful, or am I beautiful because you love me?

Oscar Hammerstein II (via thelovejournals)

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I had two longings and one was fighting the other. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to be always alone.

Jean Rhys (via quotemadness)

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When the plane went down in San Francisco, I thought of my friend M. He’s obsessed with plane crashes. He memorizes the wrecked metal details,      the clear cool skies cut by black scars of smoke. Once, while driving, he told me about all the crashes: The one in blue Kentucky, in yellow Iowa. It was almost a year before I learned his brother was a pilot. I can’t help it, I love the way men love.

Ada Limón, “Accident Report In The Tall, Tall Weeds,” from Bright Dead Things (via bostonpoetryslam)

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This is love, she thought, isn’t it? When you notice someone’s absence and hate that absence more than anything? More, even, than you love his presence?

Jonathan Safran Foer (via hellanne)

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I WANTED TO BE LOVED SO DESPERATELY THAT MY FINGERS SHOOK WITH IT I AM NOT BEAUTIFUL BUT I COULD BE

Emily Palermo, What I Could Never Confess Without Some Bravado, published in Rising Phoenix Review (via staininyourbrain)

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So when you ask me why I cannot love you more calmly, I answer that to love you calmly is not to love you at all.

Jeanette Winterson, from The PowerBook (via lifeinpoetry)

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You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.

Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless (via thelovejournals)

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“I have late night conversations with the moon, he tells me about the sun and I tell him about you.”

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Even In my dreams

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Wasn’t it nice?“ she said into the silence. "To feel wanted, even if it was only for a little while?“ "And if it wasn’t real?” came the voice critically, scrutinising her. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought for a moment. “It was nice,” she repeated, “even if it wasn’t real.”

Sue Zhao (via blossomfully)

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me // the 1975