Setareh

“A Writer in Love.

I was just a word weaver
What did I know of love?

Only that
Some days when the words weren’t enough,
I knew
I was in love.”
― Saiber, Stardust and Sheets

“Rain they take as a personal affront, shaking their heads and commiserating with each other in the cafés, looking with profound suspicion at the sky as though a plague of locusts is about to descend, and picking their way with distaste through the puddles on the pavement.”
― Peter Mayle, A Year in Provence

“In March the soft rains continued, and each storm waited courteously until its predecessor sunk beneath the ground.”
― John Steinbeck, East of Eden

“You become a house where the wind blows straight through, because no one bothers the crack in the window or lock on the door, and you’re the house where people come and go as they please, because you’re simply too unimpressed to care. You let people in who you really shouldn’t let in, and you let them walk around for a while, use your bed and use your books, and await the day when they simply get bored and leave. You’re still not bothered, though you knew they shouldn’t have been let in in the first place, but still you just sit there, apathetic like a beggar in the desert.”
― Charlotte Eriksson, You're Doing Just Fine