Her smile was kind, not so much her smile as the lips themselves. They were vital, separate lips, which seemed about to flutter from her face like a lark into the sky. They were made, as all lips are, for kissing, yet they had more important work to do: to sing of brightness and beauty.
|—||Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Cancer Ward (via hateshiploveship)|
Things are sweeter when they’re lost. I know—because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly…And when I got it it turned to dust in my hands.