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brokendowmess · 2 months
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“You don't ever lose the sadness, but you learn to love it because it becomes a part of you, and bit by bit, it fades. And eventually, you'll pick yourself back up and you'll find that you're okay. That you're going to be okay. And eventually, it will be true.”
The Dead Romantics. Ashley Poston
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brokendowmess · 2 months
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“I love you”: ★★★★★
“I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn't have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours. You probably guessed as much”: ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
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brokendowmess · 3 months
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"They say you know nothing at eighteen. But there are things you know at eighteen that you will never know again."
Mayflies. Andrew O’Hagan.
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brokendowmess · 3 months
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brokendowmess · 4 months
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“You won’t understand what I mean now, but someday you will: the only trick of friendship, I think, is to find people who are better than you are—not smarter, not cooler, but kinder, and more generous, and more forgiving—and then to appreciate them for what they can teach you, and to try to listen to them when they tell you something about yourself, no matter how bad—or good—it might be, and to trust them, which is the hardest thing of all. But the best, as well.”
A Little Life. Hanya Yanagihara
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brokendowmess · 5 months
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Check and mate. Ali Hazelwood
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brokendowmess · 6 months
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Today I’m turning 25.
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Happy birthday to me 🎉
I bought 23 books because today I’m turning 23.
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brokendowmess · 7 months
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“Who am I? Who am I?”
“You’re Jude St. Francis. You are my oldest, dearest friend. You’re the son of Harold Stein and Julia Altman. You’re the friend of Malcolm Irvine, of Jean-Baptiste Marion, of Richard Goldfarb, of Andy Contractor, of Lucien Voigt, of Citizen van Straaten, of Rhodes Arrowsmith, of Elijah Kozma, of Phaedra de los Santos, of the Henry Youngs. You’re a New Yorker. You live in SoHo. You volunteer for an arts organization; you volunteer for a food kitchen. You’re a swimmer. You’re a baker. You’re a cook. You’re a reader. You have a beautiful voice, though you never sing anymore. You’re an excellent pianist. You’re an art collector. You write me lovely messages when I’m away. You’re patient. You’re generous. You’re the best listener I know. You’re the smartest person I know, in every way. You’re the bravest person I know, in every way. You’re a lawyer. You’re the chair of the litigation department at Rosen Pritchard and Klein. You love your job; you work hard at it. You’re a mathematician. You’re a logician. You’ve tried to teach me, again and again. You were treated horribly. You came out on the other end. You were always you.” “And who are you?" "I'm Willem Ragnarsson. And I will never let you go.
A Little Life. Hanya Yanagihara
Peter Wever, 1950. Embrace painting
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brokendowmess · 7 months
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“...things get broken, and sometimes they get repaired, and in most cases, you realize that no matter what gets damaged, life rearranges itself to compensate for your loss, sometimes wonderfully.”
A Little Life. Hanya Yanagihara
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brokendowmess · 7 months
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brokendowmess · 8 months
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“I am nothing in my soul if not obsessive.”
The Secret History. Donna Tartt,
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brokendowmess · 8 months
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@rainbowrowell
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brokendowmess · 8 months
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“Achilles was looking at me. “Your hair never quite lies flat, here.” He touched my head, just behind my ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how I like it.”
My scalp prickled where his fingers had been. “You haven’t,” I said.
“I should have.” His hand drifted down to the vee at the base of my throat, drew softly across the pulse. “What about this? Have I told you what I think of this, just here?”
“No,” I said.
“This surely then.” His hand moved across the muscles of my chest; my skin warmed beneath it. “Have I told you of this?”
“That you have told me.” My breath caught a little as I spoke.
“And what of this?” His hand lingered over my hips, drew down the line of my thigh. “Have I spoken of it?”
“You have.”
“And this? Surely I would not have forgotten this.” His cat’s smile. “Tell me I did not.”
“You did not.”
“There is this too.” His hand was ceaseless now. “I know I have told you of this.”
I closed my eyes. “Tell me again,” I said.”
The Song of Achilles. Madeline Miller
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brokendowmess · 10 months
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Carry On. Rainbow Rowell
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brokendowmess · 11 months
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The cruel prince. Holly Black
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brokendowmess · 1 year
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He looks up at me with his night-colored eyes, beautiful and terrible all at once. “For a moment,” he says, “I wondered if it wasn’t you shooting bolts at me.”
I make a face at him. “And what made you decide it wasn’t?”
He grins up at me. “They missed.”
The Wicked King. Holly Black
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brokendowmess · 1 year
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*The Stolen Heir Spoilers*
My favorite quotes <3
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