“I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains„ deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know - unless it be to share our laughter.”—James Kavanaugh
Wears thick-rimmed glasses. Stands up for himself and me. Isn’t a big dick. Reads for fun. Doesn’t care about what his friends think. Tries to show off a bit for me. Isn’t a goody-two-shoes. Likes cats. Believes in girlfriend-boyfriend relationships. Doesn’t fuck around. Laughs at my lame jokes. Holds my hand in public. Isn’t afraid to look like a dork. Has respect for me.
Seriously. Boys these days have no fucking respect for girls.
He was not a monster, she said. People say he was a monster, but he was not one.
What could she have been thinking about? Not much, I guess; not back then, not at the time. She was thinking about how not to think. The times were abnormal. She took pride in her appearance. She did not believe he was a monster. He was not a monster, to her. Probably he had some endearing trait: he whistled, offkey, in the shower, he had a yen for truffles, he called his dog Liebchen and made it sit up for little pieces of raw steak. How easy it is to invent a humanity, for anyone at all. What an available temptation. A big child, she would have said to herself. Her heart would have melted, she’d have smoothed the hair back from his forehead, kissed him on the ear, and not just to get something out of him either. The instinct to soothe, to make it better. There there, she’d say, as he woke from a nightmare. Things are so hard for you. All this she would have believed, because otherwise how could she have kept on living?
“Her countenance was all expression; her eyes were not dark but impenetrably deep; you seemed to discover space after space in their intellectual glance.”—The Last Man, Mary Shelley (via fuckyeahliteraryquotes)
“Although were far away from each other, we manage to keep our love strong. We started with different backgrounds, lifestyles and look at us now. It’s real love. Real love gives us possibilities, opportunities.. from absolutely nothing.”—Darrell Edelhoff-Baker (via quote-book)