“It occurs to me that I really can't remember your face in any precise detail. Only the way you walked away through the tables in the café, your figure, your dress, that I still see.”
How right it is to love flowers and the greenery of pines and ivy and hawthorn hedges; they have been with us from the very beginning. -The Letters of Vincent van Gogh
"I love him better than myself, Ellen; and I know it by this: I pray every night that I might live after him; because I would rather be miserable than that he should be: that proves I love him better than myself."
Before I die, I want to be somebody's favourite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
Why do sunsets make one a different kind of emotional? Is it because there is an inherent sadness in being a human or does it have something to do with them being a reminder of endings? And endings, we all hate, don't we?