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“What do you want, you bitch?”

best father ever🥰

the fuck just happened 🧍🏽‍♀️

This was not so much from vanity but from a simple desire to please her. He didn't question her ideas; he accepted her tastes; he became her mistress rather than she becoming his. She spoke tender words mingled with kisses that carried his soul away. Where could she have learned such corruption, almost intangible, so profoundly had it been dissembled?

“Now how am I to sign?” he said himself. “Yours devotrfly?” No! ‘Your friend?’ Yes, that’s it.”

clara representsció de lo cabrons que son els homes

we love a woman that reads and complains about a man not being like those she fantasies while reading

“he wanted to see her again; he turned back quickly, ran up the stairs with a beating heart.”

a man that years

sa part de sa discussió—
man i was feeling it, what a banger

ai na daisy

un wey se quedo sin ojos xd

JUST LANDED IN DUBLIINNNNNN

"Why are you called the alchemist?"
"Because that's what I am."
"And what went wrong when other alchemists tried to make gold and were unable to do so?"
"They were looking only for gold," his companion answered. "They were seeking the treasure of their destiny, without wanting actually to live out the destiny."

He still had some doubts about the decision he had made. But he was able to understand one thing: making a decision was only the beginning of things. When someone makes a decision, he is really diving into a strong current that will carry him to places he had never dreamed of when he first made the decision.

“The secret of happiness is to see the marvels of the world, and never to forget the drops of oil on the spoon”
[…] He had understood the story the old king had once told him. A shepherd may like to travel, but he should never forget about his sheep.

¿De qué sirve llorar por lo pasado?
Sólo para abrir nuevo camino al dolor.

he llegit a nes metro com un pare esta agobiat perque sa filla s’esta triscant a un moro xd
that was funny

“Perhaps you think I had forgotten Mr Rochester, reader, amidst these changes of place and fortune. Not for a moment.
His idea was still with me, because it was not a vapour sunshine could disperse, nor a sand-traced effigy storms could wash away; it was a name graven on a tablet, fated to last as long as the marble it inscribed. The craving to know what had become of him followed me everywhere”

SI ANDA

Poetry destroyed? Genius banished? No!
Mediocrity, no: do not let envy prompt you to the thought. No; they not only live, but reign and redeem: and without their divine influence spread everywhere, you would be in hell - the hell of your own meanness.

aquesta part des llibre m’ha fet un throwback a ses classes de na gemma lópez. literal estic en shock i tiesa

‘I have talked, face to face, with what I reverence, with what I delight in - with an original, a vigorous, an expanded mind. I have known you, Mr Rochester; and it strikes me with terror and anguish to feel I absolutely must be torn from you for ever. I see the necessity of departure; and it is like looking on the necessity of death.'

AQUESTES PAGINES GOT ME SCREAMING

Well has Solomon said—“Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.”