“We were never lovers, and we never will be, now. I do not regret that, however. I regret the conversations we never had, the time we did not spend together. I regret that I never told him that he made me happy, when I was in his company. The world was the better for his being in it. These things alone do I now regret: things left unsaid. And he is gone, and I am old.”
— Neil Gaiman (The Sandman part 3: The Wake)
“Everyday life” by Black Lilly Flower.
“Introversion” by Xetobyte.
“Not only are there no happy endings,’ she told him, ‘there aren’t even any endings.”
— Neil Gaiman (American Gods)
“I like the stars. It’s the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they’re always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend…I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments. Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don’t last; and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But I can pretend…”
— Neil Gaiman (The Sandman, Vol. 7: Brief Lives)
“Out of my reach” by Jols Ariella.
“The boy and his dragon” by Wildlifehoodoo.
“La Cueilette” by Alastair Magnaldo.
“En realidad las cosas verdaderamente difíciles son todo lo que la gente cree poder hacer a cada momento.”
— Julio Cortázar
“Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone’s hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted—wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don’t look at me. If you don’t, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me.”
— Nicole Krauss (The History of Love)
“Lovemail” by Yumi-iko.
“When I think of you” by Raindropmemory.
“Love is just another dirty lie. Love is ergoapiol pills to make me come around because you were afraid to have a baby. Love is quinine and quinine and quinine until I’m deaf with it. Love is that dirty aborting horror that you took me to. Love is my insides all messed up. It’s half catheters and half whirling douches. I know about love. Love always hangs up behind the bathroom door. It smells like lysol. To hell with love. Love is making me happy and then going off to sleep with your mouth open while I lie awake all night afraid to say my prayers even because I know I have no right to anymore. Love is all the dirty little tricks you taught me that you probably got out of some book. All right. I’m through with you and I’m through with love.”
― Ernest Hemingway (To have and have not)
Si lees mi carta de amor al revés, «te amo» es lo primero que te digo y luego, de forma muy meticulosa, te describo detalle a detalle lo maravillosa que eres.
Si la lees al derecho, «empieza con el final» es lo primero que te digo y luego, de forma muy directa, te amo.
“Murder on the rooftops” by Philip Longson, 2011.