"Dum spiro, spero"
There's a light... Of what ?
Oh wait, is there any hope ?
Oh no, it's getting weaker and weaker
As my heart's sinking into deeper and deeper.
Shaking hands and trembling souls.
A leaf of tree falling down
The last laugh of a clown
As shallow.... and holes of horrors.
Oh wait, is there any man
Who's painting a leaf of life... But damn
Is this a man named Behrman ?
With whom a fading hope's glowing down,
As his own life's flickering candle reaches its end.
But Isn't life a labyrinth which is a dead end?
Shhh... Listen carefully to hear the violins
Crying out violence while singing of those lines
"Hope is a dangerous thing for me to have
But I have it......(Yet)
I have it......
Yet......."
Asa: I'm quick to convince myself someone likes me... Then when I'm wrong, my feelings get hurt. A life of solitude really would be better than feeling like this. There's nothing even good about me. Who am I even living for? I only care about myself. Yet whenever I get lonely, I crave companionship. How arrogant is that? I'm just tired. Tired of my inability to maintain a lasting relationship with another human being. Maybe I'd be better off dead...
Bu hayatta kendini gerçekleştirmenin sayısız yolu vardır, ancak çoğu yoğun disiplin gerektirir, bu yüzden çok azı onları alır.
There are countless ways to self realisation in this life, but most of them require intense discipline, which is why few take them.
I hate this girl so much!
Something weird is happening to me. My chest is sore, and my eyes feel immense pressure, and they’re… wet. I think I might be crying for the first time in my life.
She opens the door, but I rush in front of her, blocking her exit as I drop to my knees and grab her hands. “Olivia,” I whisper clearly. “Please don’t leave me. Please stay with me.”
Her sadness is all over her face—she’s looking at me like I’m the one breaking her heart, her eyes following a tear as it slides down my cheek.
“Please,” I beg. “Accept my v-version of love. Pl-ease. I love you, Ol-l-l—”
Olivia doesn’t tell me she loves me back, or that she’ll stay. She just gives me a warm smile and pulls her hand away before squeezing past me.
Turning on my side, I open her drawer and pull out her journal. Total invasion of privacy, but it allows me to see into her head without needing to split open her skull and inspect her brain with a magnifying glass.
She touches a lot on sexual activity—how inactive she is, which makes me smile. After tonight, we are officially actively fucking, my sweet Olivia. I’ll be doing this every single night now. She came all over my cock, whimpered my name, and moaned, so she definitely liked it.
What kind of a brother would I be if I didn’t give her more?
Ulan karı... Allah seni de kahretsin ben ne okuyorum böyle
"Elizabeth-Jane is not your Elizabeth-Jane. Our child died three months after you sold me. This living one is my other husband's. I gave her the same name as the first - she filled up the ache I felt at the other's loss."
Sayfa 39Kitabı okuyor
Hayat büyük bir akıl oyunudur. Karşı oynadığınız tek kişi kendinizsiniz. Bu sürece sadık kalın ve yakında imkansız olduğunu düşündüğünüz şey hayatınızın her lanet gününde yaptığınız bir şey olacak.
Life is a big mind game. The only person you're playing against is yourself. Stick with this process and soon what you thought was impossible will be something you do every damn day of your life.
"Me and you - this is a fucking lovestory!"
How obsessed do you want him to be with you? (me)- This much.
I’m shocked it took this long for Mom to nail her down to someone. Adam turned out to be gay, Parker still can’t walk properly, and all the other suitors she’s had over the past six months have mysteriously vanished from existence.
You’re fucking welcome, Olivia.
They weren’t enough for you. No one is except me.
"Once Zarathustra too cast his delusion beyond humans, like all hinter- worldly. At that time the world seemed to me the work of a suffering and tortured god.
Then the world seemed a dream to me and the fiction of a god; colorful smoke before the eyes of a divine dissatisfied being.
Good and evil and joy and suffering and I and you – colorful smoke it seemed to me before creative eyes. The creator wanted to look away from himself and so he created the world.
It is drunken joy to the suffering one to look away from one’s suffering and to lose oneself. Drunken joy and losing-oneself the world once seemed to me.
This world, the eternally imperfect, the mirror image and imperfect image of an eternal contradiction – a drunken joy to its imperfect creator: thus the world once seemed to me."
On the HinterworldlyKitabı okuyor
"A little company is more welcome to me than evil company, but they must go and come at the right time, for this is compatible with good sleep."
On the Teachers of VirtueKitabı okuyor