No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite. —Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom (1995)
“Dear Tiffany. I know you wrote the letter. The only way you can meet my crazy was by doing something crazy yourself. Thank you. I love you. I knew it the minute I met you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to catch up. I just got stuck. Pat.”
It is a good idea, then, to keep in touch, and I suppose that keeping in touch is what notebooks are all about. And we are all on our own when it comes to keeping those lines open to ourselves: your notebook will never help me, nor mine you. —Joan Didion on Keeping a Notebook, Brain Pickings. (via futurejournalismproject)
I saw people’s reactions and some were harsh. Not to the point where I’m going to kill myself but I thought “I’m sorry I’m not your Finnick. Trust me, when I read the book, I didn’t see me as Finnick either!”
I hate the nighttime because it’s so cold, and all I have are your empty jackets still reserving your unfilled place next to me.
But I hate the morning even more, when the blaring alarm jars me awake instead of your soft mumbles and the coldness shocks my body instead of your warm fingertips.