Facebook posts. Write up's. propensity to box you in with labels.

"sometimes love is - sitting and typing on our respective laptops, listening to the gentle snores of our two dogs tugged in their blankets, what joy!"

"In the accelerated intimacy that can only be created by situations where the lines blur between life and death, we felt instantly sentimental about these young soldiers. But, when the moment came to say goodbye and good-luck to them, my male colleagues cried openly, as I buried my face in my shirtsleeves and fought back the tears, resolved that none should ever throw my gender in my face once the war was over."

 

"Though my mother died when I was very young, there is one thing I learnt from her early on. In life, you can only be true to yourself. The rest be damned. As I evolved into a journalist reporting on different issues, I found that some viewers and readers had a propensity to box you in with labels. My reporting on different conflict zones across the world has involved years spent reporting from Jammu and Kashmir. It is a state where, to borrow from Akira Kurosawa, there are at least seven shades of truth, if not more. The sacrifices of the military, of which I am a huge admirer, have co-existed with unforgivable human rights violations of which I am an outspoken critic."

" I HAVE BEEN HOMESICK FOR YOU SINCE WE MET. "

" HIS BODY SMELLED LIKE A PRECIOUS-WOOD FOREST; HIS HAIR, LIKE SANDALWOOD, HIS SKIN, LIKE CEDAR. IT WAS AS IF HE HAD ALWAYS LIVED AMONG TREES AND PLANTS. "

by Anaïs Nin, Little Bird

" I ACHED ALL OVER FOR HER; I LEANED MY HEAD IN HER BEAUTIFUL HAIR. HER LITTLE SHOULDERS DROVE ME MAD; I HUGGED HER AND HUGGED HER. AND SHE LOVED IT. ‘I LOVE LOVE,’ SHE SAID, CLOSING HER EYES. I PROMISED HER BEAUTIFUL LOVE. I GLOATED OVER HER. OUR STORIES WERE TOLD; WE SUBSIDED INTO SILENCE AND SWEET ANTICIPATORY THOUGHTS. IT WAS AS SIMPLE AS THAT. YOU COULD HAVE ALL YOUR PEACHES AND BETTYS AND MARYLOUS AND RITAS AND CAMILLES AND INEZES IN THIS WORLD; THIS WAS MY GIRL AND MY KIND OF GIRLSOUL, AND I TOLD HER THAT. "

by Jack Kerouac, On The Road

 'TAKE ME

NAKED,’

THE FLOWER SAID

TO THE SUN,

‘BEFORE

NIGHT

CLOSES

MY THIGHS.’ "

by Malcom de Chazal, Sens-Plastique