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thebooksoflife · 1 month
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The reality is, what you imagined will never happen, and what you remembered is already done.
If only I had told her, Laura Nowlin
seaweed brain
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thebooksoflife · 3 months
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You and I, always almost. Again and again. I wonder if you recall the way I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. My head on your bare chest, bodies close. I watched you sleep, melting into you. It was an almost moment, the almost moment that started it all. We were always on the verge of almost. Never nothing, never something, but never again.
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thebooksoflife · 3 months
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I’ve polished this anger and now it's a knife.
Go Forget Your Father, Cathy Linh Che
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thebooksoflife · 3 months
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Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them.
But they were part of me. They were my landscape.
The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
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thebooksoflife · 3 months
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I don't know what it is like to not have deep emotions. Even when I feel nothing, I feel it completely.
Sylvia Plath
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thebooksoflife · 4 months
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What does it matter that my love could not keep her. The night is starry and she is not with me.
Tonight I Can Write, Pablo Neruda
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thebooksoflife · 4 months
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I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. 
Tonight I Can Write, Pablo Neruda
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thebooksoflife · 4 months
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'I know myself,' he cried, 'but that is all--‘
This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald
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thebooksoflife · 4 months
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I’m mentally spent. Out of words. Out of thoughts. It feels so good to be this empty. It’s so peaceful.
Is this what it’s like to be normal?
Every Last Word, Tamara Ireland Stone
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thebooksoflife · 4 months
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But he felt afraid of him, and ashamed of being afraid. Why had it been left for a stranger to reveal him to himself?
The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
why do we let other people tell us who we are
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thebooksoflife · 4 months
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Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away my whole soul to some one who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summers day.
The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
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thebooksoflife · 4 months
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I have been waiting
I was born waiting
abbey by mitski
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thebooksoflife · 5 months
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Even when I look away I am still looking.
Portrait of Fryderyk in Shifting Light, Richard Siken
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thebooksoflife · 6 months
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It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter anymore.
And yet I cannot let it go. I cannot let it go.
Sylvia Plath from a letter to Ruth Tiffanny Beuscher
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thebooksoflife · 6 months
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You robbed me of my life. I could have been human-1 could have been alive, but you took my heart and you murdered it. You made me into this.
The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, Emilie Autumn
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thebooksoflife · 7 months
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It's pathetic, I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was... Not love at first sight exactly, but - familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it's you. It's going to be you.
Mhairi McFarlane
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thebooksoflife · 7 months
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He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none.
Circe, Madeline Miller
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