People just wanted to be loved. That
It’s magic, Astrid. You have to know how to reach up and pull beauty out of thin air.
She usually loved this band, but today their cheerfulness made her want to crash the car.
You must find… someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch, offer you a marguerite by its long stem with his eyes lowered, someone whose fingers are a poem.
For she is my love, and other women are but big bodies of flame.
In a train…smash. In his arm her last…breath.’ He had loved her. But he hated himself more. Such suffering, so much pain. And he thought it made him hateful. As if suffering was shameful, disgusting, as if pain were a crime. Who can judge another man’s suffering?
love is temperamental. tiring. it makes demands. love uses you. changes its mind.
Why does each man kill the thing he loves?…you killed it by accident. Thinking you were doing something else. It was a cherished vase that broke while you were cleaning it. The phone rang and you dropped it. Shattering, when all you wanted was to keep it safe.
He placed his hand over his heart. “In here, there is limitless room – happiness, kindness, sorrow, anger, friendship – everything fits in here.
It’s such a liability to love another person.