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I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.— Pablo Neruda
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how much more than enough for both of us
darling. And if i sing you are my voice, -
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened) -
How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No; a woman’s function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute.
— G.K. Chesterton
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London, 1954. (via piccsy)
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dear papa: happy anniversary.
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When I am completely united to You, there will be no more sorrow or trials; entirely full of You, my life will be complete.
— St. Augustine
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I suspected that all the yearnings for I knew not what that I had ever felt — when autumn leaves were burning in the twilight, when wild geese flew crying overhead, when I looked up at bare branches against the stars, when spring arrived on an April morning — were in truth yearnings for Him. For God.
— A Severe Mercy
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God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea,
thought its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
Selah.
