“Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”
— Oscar Wilde, De Profundis
no other person on this planet was made for you, they were made for themselves. love is all about choices. no one is going to be perfect for you, and i think we need to stop raising everyone on the belief that someone out there, just one other person in the whole world, was “made for you” because it isn’t true. no one is made for you, besides you. other people belong to themselves. if you want to make it work with someone, it’s about hard work, understanding, compassion, communication, and choice
““And I want to become a woman I can love. I want to meet women who love themselves, who are alive, who are not debased, overshadowed, wiped out.””
—
– Hélène Cixous (via cubaypuertoricoson)
this body was passed down to me through so many generations of women, it is the body of my mother, my grandmother, and her mother. We have the same hips and the same hands and the same strong legs, this is my only home, I wish I could love it more than I do
“Quietly Days Months And years pass you. Quietly, You turn around And you’ll see The love of your life sitting next to you Or lounged across your couch, Hand dangling Off the edge, Wearing your ring. Maybe you’ll have one child Or two Who looks like you Or half. You’ll have your dream job And for once You’ll have stability. Quietly At that moment there, You’ll be thankful for all the hardships And heartaches you’ve faced. You just have to wait for it.”
— Zienab Hamdan - You just have to trust that God has a plan
(via moonlyaffairs)
“You love her Because when you kiss her, Her lips taste like poetry Or a really good book. And even though you Never liked reading She’s birthed a whole new tremble in your knees, And you Aren’t really you anymore. And you’re not sure If that should scare you Or not But it exhilarated your mortalness And that’s been enough.”
— Zienab Hamdan (via moonlyaffairs)
“Grief, I’ve learned, is really love. It’s all the love you want to give but cannot give. The more you loved someone, the more you grieve. All of that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes and in that part of your chest that gets empty and hollow feeling. The happiness of love turns to sadness when unspent. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
— As the lights wink out… (via nightwound)
As other girls prayed for handsomeness in a lover, or for wealth, or for power, or for poetry, she had prayed fervently: let him be kind.
Anaïs Nin - A Spy in the House of Love
“For women who are tied to the moon, love alone is not enough. We insist each day wrap it’s knuckles through our heart strings and pull. The lows. The joy. The poetry. We dance at the edge of a cliff, you have fallen off. So it goes. You will climb up again. You rare girl, once again, you have a body that belongs to no lover, to no father, belongs to no one but you. Wear your sorrow like the lines on your palm. Like a shawl to keep you warm at night. Don’t mourn the love that is lost to you now. It is a book of poems whose meters worked their way into your pulse. Even if it has slipped from your hands, it will stay in your body. You loved a man who treated you like absinthe, half poison and half god. He tried to sweeten you, to water you down. So you left. And now you have your heart all to yourself again. A heart like a stone cottage. Heart like a lover’s diary. Hope like an ocean.”
— Anais Nin letter to Clementine von Radics (via venuschild)
“I’m with you. No matter what else you have in your head I’m with you and I love you.”
— Ernest Hemingway, The Garden of Eden