Everybody shall be more or less spoony - but nobody shall be really in love.
Charles Warren Stoddard, For the Pleasure of His Company: A Tale of the Misty City, Thrice Told
Posts tagged love.
I must, it seems, love not people alone but people as ideas.
Charles Henri-Ford & Parker Tyler, The Young and the Evil
I’ve never written, though I thought I wrote, never loved, though I thought I loved, never done anything but wait outside the closed door.
Marguerite Duras, The Lover
He had a word, too. Love, he called it. But I had been used to words a long time. I knew that that word was like the others: just a shape to fill a lack; that when the right time came, you wouldn’t need a word for that anymore than for pride or fear.
William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying
Love becomes the deposit of the heart, analogous in all degrees to the “findings” in a tomb. As in one will be charted the taken place of the body, the raiment, the utensils necessary to its other life, so in the heart of the lover will be traced, as an indelible shadow, that which he loves.
Djuna Barnes, Nightwood
Pity is love after a while.
Charles Henri-Ford and Parker Tyler, The Young and the Evil
Theodosia walking in sunlight, walking on dead grass, bearing her body through the sunlight over the dead grass. Theo. Theodosia drinking the morning, drinking the noon, Theo in moonlight, in darkness, walking, walking and saying he is queer. I wonder. Theo bearing wonder. Theodosia finding queer, saying I love you. In strange smoke-thick yellowed air of speakeasies, over wine, over liqueurs, over smoke, over dreamings, Theodosia chanting words like broken music: I love you.
Charles Henri-Ford and Parker Tyler, The Young and the Evil
We close our eyes, we clutch at bodies,
We wake at dream’s length from each other
And love shamefully and coldly
Strangers we seem to know by memory
Charles Henri-Ford and Parker Tyler, The Young and the Evil
