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A Burning
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by Megha Majumdar (Goodreads Author)
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Ninth House
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by Leigh Bardugo (Goodreads Author)
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Feral Sins
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by Suzanne Wright (Goodreads Author)
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  (page 329 of 429)
Dec 17, 2019 09:43AM

 
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Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
“Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPERY - MAN

Emily Brontë
“I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Emily Brontë
“I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Taylor Jenkins Reid
“I loved you so much, that I thought you were the meaning of my life," Celia said, crying. "I thought that people were put on Earth to find other people, and I was put on Earth to find you. To find you, and touch your skin, and smell your breath, and hear all your thoughts. But I don't think that's true anymore." She wiped her eyes. "Because I don't want to be meant for someone like you.”
Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

Catherynne M. Valente
“Koschei smiled. His pale lips sought hers, crushing her into a kiss like dying. She tasted sweetness there, as though he still kissed her with honey and sugar on his tongue. When he pulled away, his eyes shone.

"I don't care, Marya Morevna. Kiss him. Take him to your bed, and the vila, too, for all it matters to me. Do you understand me, wife? There need never be any rules between us. Let us be greedy together; let us hoard. Let us hit each other with birch branches and lock each other in dungeons; let us drink each other's blood in the night and betray each other in the sun. Let us lie and lust and take hundreds of lovers; let us dance until snow melts beneath us. Let us steal and eat until we grow fat and roll in the pleasures of life, clutching each other for purchase. Only leave me my death — let me hold this one thing sacred and unmolested and secret — and I will serve you a meal myself, served on a platter of all the world's bounty. Only do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me, and no empress will stand higher. Forget the girls in the factory. Be selfish and cruel and think nothing of them. I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I. I will have you in my hoard, Marya Morevna, my black mirror.”
Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

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