Khareen > Recent Status Updates

The girls I like best are the ones I never feel much like kidding.

Why people who love each other part before it is necessary? — well: perhaps because at any moment this necessity may step forth and demand it.

For it remains difficult, in any case, whether one determines to say much or little, and is an immeasurable responsibility.

Life takes pride in not appearing uncomplicated.

So much is growing, quite organically, I feel, but very slowly, and I destroy everything if I push and hurry.

If I prayed for you, I would pray for you not to break through it, this solitude, not now, not imapatiently, not at any price.

Our hearts lie deep, but if we are not pressed down into them, we never go all the way to the bottom.

All the strength we give away comes back over us again, experienced and transformed.

Be of good courage, all is before you, and time passed in the difficult is never lost...

I feel... as if we had gone together through endless developments, through worlds, and worlds through us.

By what road does one become a worthy initiate?

My heart was oppressed and out of sorts without my knowing the reason at first.

I drowned in the fire of having you, I burned
In the river of not having you, we lived
Together for hours in a house of thousand rooms
And we were parted for a thousand years.

"Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart — the salvation of man is through love and in love.

The truth — that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire.

Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love.

The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become.

Remember me among the stars and pray for me; perhaps peace will find me.

"Love goes very far beyond the physical person of the beloved. It finds its deepest meaning in his spiritual being, his inner self."

"An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behavior."

If she were here she would
reach out her arms towards
you now, and touch you
with her absent hands
and you would feel nothing, but you would be
touched all the same.

if I clutch at my heart and scream in horror
like a third-rate actress chewing up a made scene,
I do it in private and nobody sees
but the bathroom mirror.

Somehow I never succeeded
in being taken seriously.

This form of love is like the pain
of childbirth: so intense
it's hard to remember afterwards,
of what kind of screams and grimaces
it pushed you into.

But it's love that does us in.

In every crowd are certain persons who seem just like the rest, yet they bear amazing messages.

Writers are fickle.

How could I have ever loved her and let her go.

Sometimes we do not really become adults until we suffer a good whacking loss, and our lives in a sense catch up with us and wash over us like a wave and everything goes.

I prefer not to look back. I shall keep moving forward.