“when it came to listening my mother taught me silence if you are drowning their voice with yours how will you hear them she asked when it came to speaking she said do it with commitment every word you say is your own responsibility when it came to being she said be tender and tough at once you need to be vulnerable to live fully but rough enough to survive it all when it came to choosing she asked me to be thankful for the choices i had that she never had the privilege of making” — lessons from mumma
this format was made by partie! please only use this for your QUOTES on WITTYPROFILES.COM and do not remove ANY part of the credit; that includes this credit right here and any credit that follows (c) partie cruel mothers are still mothers. they make us wars. they make us revolution. they teach us the truth. early. mothers are humans. who sometimes give birth to their pain. instead of children.
‘as you are.’ says the universe. ‘after...’ you answer. ‘as you are.’ says the universe. ‘before...’ you answer. ‘as you are.’ says the universe. ‘when...’ you answer. ‘as you are.’ says the universe. ‘how...’ you answer. ‘as you are.’ says the universe. ‘why...’ you answer. ‘because you are happening now. right now. right at this moment and your happening is beautiful. the thing that both keeps me alive and brings me to my knees. you don’t even know how breathtaking you are. as you are.’ says the universe through tears. as you are | you are the prayer
Perhaps the actual problem is the inexcusable way I have taught myself to love people. If my heart was a flower it would be an anomaly born without sepal or petals. Whole pieces of my soul-gold invested inside the bank of someone else’s heart. I mean, Aphrodite never shows up at school, book in hand, teaching love as the only real art. There are no classes in the coping with the loss of whole people, no warnings left on memory’s tombs. They say love is what makes the world go round, but no one ever leaves a note for us in the womb. No instruction manual when we are born, nor a how-to guide on the correct way to fall. Nor one on how to barter pieces of yourself without losing an eternity inside someone else’s soul. I’m afraid this is why I have always been so lost. I have been loved, and I have loved but I never learned how to gracefully bear the cost. In Which I Admit I Love Badly
“ I thought I had found a swan but it was a migrating snow goose. I thought I was linked invisibly to another’s life but I found myself more alone with him than without him. I thought I had found a fire but it was the play of light on bright stones. I thought I was wounded to the core but I was only bruised. Denise Levertov, Epilogue
Sometimes in late summer I won’t touch anything, not the flowers, not the blackberries brimming in the thickets; I won’t drink from the pond; I won’t name the birds or the trees; I won’t whisper my own name. One morning the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident, and didn’t see me—and I thought: so this is the world. I’m not in it. It is beautiful.
“ no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy. — A Primer for the Small Weird Loves ”
“Yes, of course I’ve hardened, of course I have had to change to survive in this unforgiving world. But somewhere inside me, there still lives a little girl who once tried to invent a time machine, just to go back in time to save Vincent Van Gogh from his sadness when she heard he ate yellow paint to get the happiness inside him.”