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“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” - Leo F. Buscaglia
nokrista:

EHAT BOOK IS THIS

nokrista:

EHAT BOOK IS THIS


aseaofquotes:

Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Girl from the Sea

aseaofquotes:

Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Girl from the Sea


I just want somebody who will never stop choosing me.

A.G. (via attractionns)

yungmanic:

I think it’s absolutely crazy how feelings can flicker so quickly, deteriorate so easily. One minute my ears are filled with the sound of your soothing voice complementing my every thought, mistake and action- then the next you plaster me with doubt, mentally suffocating me with criticism. I don’t know which is the truth and which is the lie, or what hurts more; the compliments or the suffocation. Weird isn’t it. I am not sad because your feelings changed, or that you lack understanding. No. I am sad that you are letting go of someone who was willing to change themselves into a better person. Change for you. All the care and feeling I have towards you is being thrown away. You let go of that, you let go of me. And you will never find that again. Another girl? Sure, but not the feelings I had. No matter how hard you search. Never. Giving you a chance and showing the slightest bit of affection was an ocean of effort. Appreciate me. Patience is all we needed, all you needed. But waiting seemed like a forever maze; an inescapable facade, an emotional trap. I can’t keep living in the past, the only time that’s real is now, the only time that exists is now. Our touch, our laughter, forever hugs, feelings, kisses and every depressing word I just wrote no longer exists. It’s in the past. Dead.

yungmanic:

I think it’s absolutely crazy how feelings can flicker so quickly, deteriorate so easily. One minute my ears are filled with the sound of your soothing voice complementing my every thought, mistake and action- then the next you plaster me with doubt, mentally suffocating me with criticism. I don’t know which is the truth and which is the lie, or what hurts more; the compliments or the suffocation. Weird isn’t it. I am not sad because your feelings changed, or that you lack understanding. No. I am sad that you are letting go of someone who was willing to change themselves into a better person. Change for you. All the care and feeling I have towards you is being thrown away. You let go of that, you let go of me. And you will never find that again. Another girl? Sure, but not the feelings I had. No matter how hard you search. Never. Giving you a chance and showing the slightest bit of affection was an ocean of effort. Appreciate me. Patience is all we needed, all you needed. But waiting seemed like a forever maze; an inescapable facade, an emotional trap. I can’t keep living in the past, the only time that’s real is now, the only time that exists is now. Our touch, our laughter, forever hugs, feelings, kisses and every depressing word I just wrote no longer exists. It’s in the past. Dead.


It’s amazing, some people, they just say these small little things, one sentence and it changes the way you feel about them in an instant. Small little words that can hurt you so much or make you fall deeply in love forever. It changes everything, nothing between you is ever really the same again, even if they don’t know it, it still happens

"I have never understood the concept of infatuation. It has always been my understanding that being “infatuated” with someone means you think you are in love, but you’re actually not; infatuation is (supposedly) just a foolish, fleeting feeling. But if being “in love” is an abstract notion, and it’s not tangible, and there is no way to physically prove it to anyone else… well, how is being in love any different than having an infatuation? They’re both human constructions. If you think you’re in love with someone and you feel like you’re in love with someone, then you obviously are; thinking and feeling is the sum total of what love is. Why do we feel an obligation to certify emotions with some kind of retrospective, self-imposed authenticity?" ~Chuck Klosterman


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