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@rambling-roommate
Here again.

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But then again, I wonder if what we feel in our hearts today isn’t like these raindrops still falling on us from the soaked leaves above, even though the sky itself long stopped raining. I’m wondering if without our memories, there’s nothing for it but for our love to fade and die.
The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro
"But this is my own maze, she told herself, this is the maze I grew up in; I could not be a prisoner here; I know the way so perfectly, and she turned and was further lost."
— Shirley Jackson, The Sundial
Dandelions
How does one hate a country, or love one? […] I know people, I know towns, farms, hills and rivers and rocks, I know how the sun at sunset in autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills; but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving it a name and ceasing to love where the name ceases to apply?
— Ursula K. Le Guin – The Left Hand of Darkness (1969, p. 212)

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Ursula K. LeGuin, The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas
make a wish
it's been a very yellow april (forsythia, daffodils, and dandelions)
One of my favorite things about loving someone or developing a closeness or fondness towards someone is also loving and developing a fondness for the things they care about. When you learn to see the world in a new way, or you learn to appreciate the things you’ve previously overlooked, or they become your excuse to get into an interest you always thought was cool but thought you didn’t have time for. When a connection makes your world bigger and warmer and fuller and more beautiful.

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I think the purest form of love is just wanting someone to notice life with you. "taste this. look at that. hear this song." again and again. until you can't imagine noticing life without them.
''i wasted those years'' who cares. you lived the only life you could've lived in those moments
You did the best you could with all you had and knew. That was then. Here is now
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The Left Hand of Darkness

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"I think we might make it," he said, with that complete simplicity I had so long taken for irony.
The Left Hand of Darkness