Diane

“the radio aches a little tune that tells the story of what the night is thinking. it's thinking of love.

it's thinking of stabbing us to death and leaving our bodies in a dumpster.

that's a nice touch, stains in the night, whiskey and kisses for everyone.”
― Richard Siken

“The rain comes through their thin cotton clothes against their muscles. Alice sweeps back her wet hair. A sudden flinging of sheet lighting and Clara sees Alice subliminal in movement almost rising up into the air, shirt removed, so her body can meet the rain, the rest of her ascent lost to darkness till the next brief flutter of light when they hold a birch tree in their clasped hands, lean back and swing within the rain.
They crawl delirious together in the blackness. There is no moon. There is the moon flower in its small power of accuracy, like a compass, pointing to where the moon is, so they can bay towards its absence.”
― Michael Ondaatje, In the Skin of a Lion

“Quando l'amore si trasforma in attesa dell'amore non siamo più in grado di capire cosa sentiamo veramente”
― Elias Khoury, سينالكول

“I miss dreaming forwards," Anna said.
"What?"
"I dream backwards now. You won't believe how backwards you'll dream someday.”
― Marina Keegan, The Opposite of Loneliness: Essays and Stories