quotes from anita
taken from "Incubus Dreams" by Laurell K. Hamilton
Sometimes you fight what you are, and sometimes you give into it. And some nights you just don't want to fight yourself anymore, so you pick someone else to fight.
I promised not to poke at things anymore. I promised not to break things if they were working. I promised not to stir up shit, if it didn't have to be stirred. I said a little prayer to help me keep those promises. Because, God knew, that the chances of me keeping any of those promises without divine intervention were slim to none.
What is love? What does it feel like in its rawest form? Lust, need, desire, and that aching want, as if the center of your body was carved out and hollow, and the only thing that can fill it is the person that you're touching.
What is love? Sometimes it's just letting yourself be who and what you are, and letting the person you're supposed to love be who and what he is, too.
There comes a point where you just love someone. Not because they're good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn't mean you'll be together forever. It doesn't mean you won't hurt each other. It just means you love them. Sometimes in spite of who they are, and sometimes because of who they are And you know that they love you, sometimes because of who you are, and sometimes in spite of it.
I'd like to say that I had something equally salacious to say, or something sauve, but for the life of me, the only thing I could think to say, was, "okay". It wasn't sauve and debonair, but when you love someone, you don't always have to be sauve and debonair, sometimes you can just be yourself, and okay said at the right moment is sweeter than any poetry and can mean more to someone that all the pillow talk in the world.
"You have the look of a fallen angel, ma petite. An angel does not stop being an angel merely because they fall from grace; their wings are not so easily taken."
Sometimes you fight what you are, and sometimes you give into it. And some nights you just don't want to fight yourself anymore, so you pick someone else to fight.
I promised not to poke at things anymore. I promised not to break things if they were working. I promised not to stir up shit, if it didn't have to be stirred. I said a little prayer to help me keep those promises. Because, God knew, that the chances of me keeping any of those promises without divine intervention were slim to none.
What is love? What does it feel like in its rawest form? Lust, need, desire, and that aching want, as if the center of your body was carved out and hollow, and the only thing that can fill it is the person that you're touching.
What is love? Sometimes it's just letting yourself be who and what you are, and letting the person you're supposed to love be who and what he is, too.
There comes a point where you just love someone. Not because they're good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn't mean you'll be together forever. It doesn't mean you won't hurt each other. It just means you love them. Sometimes in spite of who they are, and sometimes because of who they are And you know that they love you, sometimes because of who you are, and sometimes in spite of it.
I'd like to say that I had something equally salacious to say, or something sauve, but for the life of me, the only thing I could think to say, was, "okay". It wasn't sauve and debonair, but when you love someone, you don't always have to be sauve and debonair, sometimes you can just be yourself, and okay said at the right moment is sweeter than any poetry and can mean more to someone that all the pillow talk in the world.
"You have the look of a fallen angel, ma petite. An angel does not stop being an angel merely because they fall from grace; their wings are not so easily taken."