“It Is Called The Ney...And Its Sound Is The Sigh Of The Lover For The Beloved.”

“It is called the ney...And its sound is the sigh of the lover for the beloved.”

More Posts from Bleedingoverpages and Others

3 years ago

"If you can love someone with your whole heart, even one person, then there's salvation in life. Even if you can't get together with that person."

–Aomame

—Haruki Murakami, 1Q84


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2 years ago

You can just be there. To listen. To talk. To cheer him up if he's having a bad day. And on the bad days, you can ask what you can do to make things easier. Standing by his side, even when things are hard. But also knowing that...sometimes people need more support than one person can give. That's love, darling.

— Heartstopper, Alice Oseman


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2 years ago

“Words. Words. I play with words, hoping that some combination, even a chance combination, will say what I want.”

— Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook

3 years ago

"Hope is often just a consoling thought, our naive disclaimer, retracting the possibility of a certain reality that we don't have the power to change."

— Apsara Menaka

Menaka's Choice, Kavita Kané


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3 years ago
THE SONG OF ACHILLES || Madeline Miller
THE SONG OF ACHILLES || Madeline Miller
THE SONG OF ACHILLES || Madeline Miller
THE SONG OF ACHILLES || Madeline Miller
THE SONG OF ACHILLES || Madeline Miller
THE SONG OF ACHILLES || Madeline Miller

THE SONG OF ACHILLES || Madeline Miller

10 months ago

Teri meri nazrein hi iane hain sara jo majra

— Besharam Si Nazrein


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3 years ago

मैं जग-जीवन का भार लिए फिरता हूँ ,

फिर भी जीवन में प्यार लिए फिरता हूँ ;

कर दिया किसी ने झंकृत जिनको छु कर

मैं साँसों के दो तार लिए फिरता हूँ !

I live with the burden of the world

Yet, I live with love in my life

Someone's love has touch

The two strings of my breath

~आत्म परिचय- हरिवंश राय बच्चन 

~Aatmaparichay, Harivansh Rai Bachchan


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2 years ago

Sputnik Sweetheart made her think of Laika, the dog. The man-made satellite streaking soundlessly across the blackness of outer space. The dark, lustrous eyes of the dog gazing out the tiny window. In the infinite loneliness of space, what could the dog possibly be looking at?

— Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart


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I overthink, so I write

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