Isn’t it funny? I’m enjoying my hatred so much more than I ever enjoyed love. Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love uses you, changes its mind. But hatred, now, that’s something you can use. Sculpt. Wield. It’s hard, or soft, however you need it. Love humiliates you, but Hatred cradles you.
Janet Fitch, White Oleander (via klarolinestan)
(Source: durianquotes, via klarolinestan)
Do you ever miss him?
Every day. Every minute.
Every minute, she says.
Yes, it’s that way, isn’t it?
Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler’s Wife (via quotes-shape-us)
Sometimes I wonder what the fuck I’m doing. Am I ready for this? Am I ready for a different face, a different taste? A deeper voice pronouncing the word ‘stay’ or teeth not quite as square? Can I lose myself in eyes that are missing the darker tone of blue than what I’m used to, and am I okay to never see the freckle that lies on your waterline? Am I prepared for new inside jokes and a laugh that doesn’t sound like the coughing fit of a man with a three week old cold? I’m not sure. I’m not sure if I’m ready to have my dreams invaded with some else’s lips. But I guess I have to be.
Jessica Haley Mathews, “Am I Ready?” (via wordsnquotes)
(Source: wnq-writers, via wordsnquotes)
It’s just some feel and others don’t. People lie about it I think. But it’s so nice to just feel and hold you. I’m so happy. Just be my girl and love me the way I love you. Love me more. The way you can now. You now. Yes you. Please you.
Ernest Hemingway, from The Garden Of Eden (via violentwavesofemotion)
I won’t ever leave you, even though you’re always leaving me.
Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler’s Wife (via feellng)
My friend once told me
she liked this guy because of his hands
And I found it absurd that anyone
would develop feelings over one feature,
and not care about the rest
It wasn’t until you used your hands
to cup the back of my neck the first time we kissed
and I could feel your firm grasp pull me closer,
and my insides exploded
and my head buzzed with bliss.
And the first night you slept over,
you fell asleep with your hand
laid over my stomach
and your fingers felt like a fire
that I didn’t mind burning my skin.
The first time we got drunk,
was the first time you played with my hair,
and my god I was hooked,
I’d drink forever if it meant you’d never stop.
And in public you’d hold my hand,
and rub your thumb in little circles
that left me wanting you more,
no matter what you would never let me go,
I was glued to you,
and I honestly didn’t mind
When we talked about breaking up,
you saw my lips quiver with fear,
and you brushed over my lips with your fingers
before pulling me into your lap
and you kissed me like never before.
With your hands on my hips
pulling me so close to you,
leaving no space in between us.
It was then I realized I never wanted you to go
Its now that,
I finally understand why hands
were the only feature that mattered
Hands: Carol Shlyakhova (via endsofadream)
my life rn (via cuffbrooke)
(Source: strong-but-breakable.tk, via expl0sionsintheskyy)
Though I may seem at times somewhat distant from you, through the gray mist of my own moods, I am never far; my thoughts always circle around you.
Friedrich Nietzsche (via feellng)
and then there are some who
believe that old
relationships can be
revived and made new
if you feel that way
Charles Bukowski (via feellng)
(Source: feellng, via teenager90s)