“Part of me is made of glass, and also, I love you.”

"You'll never write well if you fear dying, do you?"

"Yeah, I do, it's probably my greatest fear, actually."

"Well it's something all men before you have done, all men will do"

"I know...I know...'

"Have you ever made love to a truly great woman?"

"Actually my fiance is pretty sexy."

"...and when you make love to her you feel true and beautiful passion and you, for at least that moment, lose your fear of death?"

"Well no... that never happens"

"I believe that love that is true and real creates a rest pit from death. All cowardice comes from not loving or not loving well, which is the same thing. And when a man who is brave and true looks death squarely in the face, like some rhino hunters I know, or Belmonte who is truly brave, it is because they love with sufficent passion to push death out of their minds. Until it returns as it does to all men. And then you must make really good love again. Think about it."

The night all of my dreams came true, and like all happy endings,It was a tragedy, Of my device, for I succeeded.

"All men fear death. It’s a natural fear that consumes us all. We fear death because we feel that we haven’t loved well enough or loved at all, which ultimately are one in the same. However, when you make love with a truly great woman, one that deserves the utmost respect in this world and one that makes you feel truly powerful, that fear of death completely disappears. Because when you are sharing your body and heart with a great woman the world fades away. You two are the only ones in the entire universe. You conquer what most lesser men have never conquered before, you have conquered a great woman’s heart, the most vulnerable thing she can offer to another. Death no longer lingers in the mind. Fear no longer clouds your heart. Only passion for living, and for loving, become your sole reality. This is no easy task for it takes insurmountable courage. But remember this, for that moment when you are making love with a woman of true greatness you will feel immortal."

Part of my job consists of pretending to be interested in people. It's nice to be genuinely interested.

Longing suits me.

baby

I would love to meet someone I can't live without

Real Life

I can't find the exact quote that Woody Allen's Hemingway uses when he talks about fear of death and loving a good woman but I can try to summarize:

"When you make love to a good woman you lose your fear of death, even if it's just for a moment. Then after the only thing to do is to make love again"

I still don't believe I'll ever find love the way I've read about in books but I will continue to chase every charmer I come across for just a few moments of blissful existential physical ecstasy that make me forget what haunts me

Not vanity, Curiosity.

Hemingway

"You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you dies each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason.

When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself."

I would have more success in love if I wasn't attracted to guys who resembled Ernest Hemingway.

J. S. V. E. R. D. B.

All my lost, unrequited loves have become the same ghosts.

They perch on my shoulder as I sit alone. They remind me of my place in this life, a solitaire.

My mother’s womb made me the same mercurial creature that she is now. I am doomed to repeat her mistakes.

A tragic fate, to be filled with unwavering and overwhelming amounts of love. Empathy that I cannot contain, nor understand. And not a recipient in site.

It is too perfect, and too beautiful a thing to love something that will not, will never love you back.

.

In my dreams I am in a hotel by the sea.

From the window I can taste salt in the air, feel the heat of the sun on my skin. There is no sound except the waves lapping up onto the shore, in their fruitless efforts to drown the earth. They are whispering secrets to me, I cannot understand them but I am soothed. I am alone.

In my dreams I am in a hotel by the sea.

I try to imagine you there; I try to imagine that you are good company. That I am happy with you, brushing your hair or lying with your leg over my body, that sort of rough affection that I grew to love. The moment lingers in its perfection and then is gone, and I can’t decide whether it was better to have dreamed it at all, knowing that your absence will haunt me.

Loneliness becomes me; it is my most beautiful face. These days, it is my only.

Angry and Miserable

Fuck moving

I want someone to love my nuiances. I've learned that I'm not strong, I am weak and fragile and falling to pieces, lost in this world. I only let certain people see it and I was foolish to think I could leave myself exposed and not expect to get hurt. Is it so much to ask just for companionship? What is it about me that makes people love me but then discard me? As though they found something special enough to captivate them but not important enough to hold onto. I can't think of one thing in my life that I really have, that belongs to me and won't disappear.

If and when I am ever wanted, I'll be too hurt and jaded to ever let anyone in again.