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89words

“The Portuguese call it saudade: a longing for something so indefinite as to be indefinable. Love affairs, miseries of life, the way things were, people already dead, those who left and the ocean that tossed them on the shores of a different land — all things born of the soul that can only be felt.”

— Anthony De Sa, Barnacle Love

Aug 19 2023  |  3,241 notes

itssomayaa

“Give me a few days of peace in your arms—I need it terribly. I’m ragged, worn, exhausted. After that I can face the world.”


Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953

Aug 18 2023  |  2,408 notes

messedupmouth

“‘Think of how you love me,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t expect you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me, there’ll be the person I am tonight.’”

Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Aug 17 2023  |  109 notes