Lives in the Stars

dehram:

I do not love you as if you were the salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;…

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
Pablo Neruda (via adrianalinerush)

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda, If You Forget Me (via lovesickdiagnostician)
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Pablo Neruda (via picheputa)
But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.
Pablo Neruda (via adrianalinerush)

quiet-opulence:

I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;

I adore Neruda’s work. So so much

Pretty much the best explanation of love ever

bittery:

LOUIE: Look, I liked the feeling of being in love with her, I liked it. But now she’s gone and I miss her and it sucks. And I didn’t think it was gonna be this bad, and I feel like, why even be happy if it’s just gonna lead to this? It wasn’t worth it.

BIGELOW: Boy, misery is wasted on the miserable.

LOUIE: What?

BIGELOW: You think spending time with her, kissing her, having fun with her, you think that’s what it was all about? That was love?

LOUIE: Yeah.

BIGELOW: This is love, missing her. Because she’s gone, wanting to die. You’re so lucky. You’re like a walking poem. Would you rather be some kind of… a fantasy? Some kind of a Disney ride? Is that what you want? Don’t you see, this is the good part. This is what you’ve been digging for all this time. Now you finally have it in your hand, this sweet nugget of love. Sweet, sad love and you wanna throw it away. You’ve got it all wrong!

LOUIE: I thought this was the bad part.

BIGELOW: No! The bad part is when you forget her. When you don’t care about her. When you don’t care about anything. The bad part is coming so enjoy the heartbreak while you can.

There are dreamers and there are realists in this world. You’d think the dreamers would find the dreamers and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not the opposite is true. You see, the dreamers need the realists to keep them from soaring too close to the sun. And the realists, well without the dreamers, they might not ever get off the ground.
Cameron Tucker, Modern Family (via unsedated)
Of course we won’t starve, the sand piranhas will get us long before that
Well that’s comforting, Doctor (via doctorwho)