Elena

“The more you love, the more you suffer”
― Vincent van Gogh

“A terrible confession it was (he put his hat on again) but now, at the age of fifty-three, one scarcely needed people any more. Life itself, every moment of it, every drop of it, here, this instant, now, in the sun, in Regent's Park, was enough. Too much, indeed. A whole lifetime was too short to bring out, now that one had acquired the power, the full flavour; to extract every ounce of pleasure, every shade of meaning< which both were so much more solid than they used to be, so much less personal.”
― Virginia Woolf

“Her mind was an hotel where facts came and went like transient lodgers, without leaving their address behind, and frequently without paying for their board.”
― Edith Wharton, Xingu and other Stories

“Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.”
― Kait Rokowski