Sapphic Classic Quotes

“She was all I had ever dreamt of being. She was beautiful, more beautiful than anyone I had ever seen. She was intelligent, smarter than anyone I had ever met. When poised and quiet, she had an impact on people anyways, a statue and incarnate of everything revered in a woman, yet when she spoke, you did not know how to thank what deity for having been graced to be in the presence of someone like her. She did not speak as I did, and she spoke so little.”
― Aliza S., the Poppy fields near the French countryside: Sappho edition

“God, she was beautiful. She was so beautiful her image and her laugh and her picturesque face and odour lingered and stay etched upon and echoed across the multitude of chambers in her subconscious psyche. She tried to count the stars in the night sky like the freckles on the blonde’s nose. She thought of her lips being the clouds of stardust that stayed around the night sky, so distracting yet not really spoken about. She thought of the Moon being her eyes, so wide and big and bright. Her beauty was transient and translucent like the night sky.”
― Aliza S., the poppy fields near the French countryside

“I live in the desert of the heart. I can't love the whole damned world.”
― Jane Rule, Desert of the Heart

“Like avocado refrigerators and outdated clothing, love becomes clutter—emotional clutter that takes up space better used for something else.”
― Marianne K. Martin, Legacy of Love

“Her scent was so distinct, one you could almost never forget, of ocean salt and roses almost as if she was Aphrodite herself, born out of the foam of the sea and despite the godly picturesqueness, she looked so simple and austere like she was just a damsel who had lived near the sea her entire life.”
― Aliza S., the Poppy fields near the French countryside

“But she was so beautiful, it was all forgiven. She was the kind of beautiful I have seen only in print. She was so beautiful I would do anything she asked me to do. If she asked for the moon, I would put a lasso around it and give it to her. If she asked for the stars, I would spend eternity plucking them off the tapestry of the sky, but I could not give her the sun for she was my Sun, my reason for living, the reason to wake up in the morning.”
― Aliza S., the Poppy fields near the French countryside: Sappho edition