She saw him, slender and firm, as if the setting sun had given him to her. A deep pain took over her and she knew she must love him.
D.H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers
For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, It might have been.
John Greenleaf Whittier (via decrepito)
You say my name like words that I made up.
Vamos suar com o veneno da serpente que eu roubei pra te picar.
Maria Gadú Lounge
[j’ai cru entendre ‘je t’aime’]
If time is not true, what purpose have watchmakers?
Alan Moore, Watchmen
- Vai fazer o que no fim de semana ?
- O de sempre, o que faço todos os dias.
- O que?
- Pensar em você.
Fermes les yeux.
Je voudrais les fermer avec mes lèvres.
À la faveur de la nuit, Robert Desnos 1926
- [A dor cedia alguma vez, mas cedia a indifernça, que era um sono sem sonhos, ou a prazer, que era uma dor bastarda]
- ‘Pain relented sometimes, but it gave way to indifference, which was a dreamless sleep, or to pleasure, which was a bastard pain’
I had not intended to love him; the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously revived, great and strong. He made me love him without looking at me.
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (via decrepito)