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“What I feel—I shouldn't show you,
so when you're around I won't;
I know I've no right to feel it
but it doesn't mean I don't.”
― Love & Misadventure
so when you're around I won't;
I know I've no right to feel it
but it doesn't mean I don't.”
― Love & Misadventure
“Sad Songs
Once there was a boy who couldn't speak but owned a music box that held every song in all the world. One day he met a girl who had never heard a single melody in her entire life and so he played her his favorite song. He watched while her face lit up with wonder as the music filled the sky and the poetry of lyrics moved her in a way she had never felt before.
He would play his songs for her day after day and she would sit by him quietly—never seeming to mind that he could only speak to her through song. She loved everything he played for her, but of them all—she loved the sad songs best. So he began to play them more and more until eventually, sad songs were all she would hear.
One day, he noticed it had been a very long time since her last smile. When he asked her why, she took both his hands in hers and kissed them warmly. She thanked him for his gift of music and poetry but above all else—for showing her sadness because she had known neither of these things before him. But it was now time for her to go away—to find someone who could show her what happiness was.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Do you remember the song that was playing the night we met?
No, but I remember every song I have heard since you left.”
― Love & Misadventure
Once there was a boy who couldn't speak but owned a music box that held every song in all the world. One day he met a girl who had never heard a single melody in her entire life and so he played her his favorite song. He watched while her face lit up with wonder as the music filled the sky and the poetry of lyrics moved her in a way she had never felt before.
He would play his songs for her day after day and she would sit by him quietly—never seeming to mind that he could only speak to her through song. She loved everything he played for her, but of them all—she loved the sad songs best. So he began to play them more and more until eventually, sad songs were all she would hear.
One day, he noticed it had been a very long time since her last smile. When he asked her why, she took both his hands in hers and kissed them warmly. She thanked him for his gift of music and poetry but above all else—for showing her sadness because she had known neither of these things before him. But it was now time for her to go away—to find someone who could show her what happiness was.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Do you remember the song that was playing the night we met?
No, but I remember every song I have heard since you left.”
― Love & Misadventure
“Wounded
A bruise is tender
but does not last,
it leaves me as
I always was.
But a wound I take
much more to heart,
for a scar will always
leave its mark.
And if you should ask me
which you are,
my answer is -
you are a scar.”
―
A bruise is tender
but does not last,
it leaves me as
I always was.
But a wound I take
much more to heart,
for a scar will always
leave its mark.
And if you should ask me
which you are,
my answer is -
you are a scar.”
―
“exhilaration fizzed through Clarke’s body. Before she realised what she was doing, she had thrown her arms around Bellamy. He joined in her laughter as he staggered backward, and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and spinning her through the air. The colours of the clearing swirled, green and gold and blue all blurring until there was nothing in the world but Bellamy’s smile, lighting up his eyes. Finally he set her down gently on the ground. Be he didn’t loosen his grip. Instead he pulled her even closer, and before Clarke had time to catch her breath, his lips were on hers. A voice in her brain told her stop, but it was overpowered by the smell of his skin and the pressure of his touch. Clarke felt like she was melting into his arms, losing herself in the kiss. He tasted like joy, and joy tasted better on Earth.”
― The 100
― The 100
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