It was the first time I had ever heard her laugh. I watched her face. “You are sweet,” she said. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes. You are a dear. I’d be glad to kiss you if you don’t mind.” I looked in her eyes and put my arm around her as I had before and kissed her. I kissed her hard and held her tight and tried to open her lips; they were closed tight. I was still angry and as I held her suddenly she shivered. I held her close against me and could feel her heart beating and her lips opened and her head went back against my hand and then she was crying on my shoulder. “Oh, darling,” she said. “You will be good to me, won’t you?
” What the hell, I thought. I stroked her hair and patted her shoulder.
She was crying.
“You will, won’t you?” She looked up at me. “Because we’re going to
have a strange life.”

Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (via ughpoems)

(via ughpoems)

Growing is knowing when you’ve fucked up and realising you’re human and everyone fucks up from time to time. So it’s ok, say sorry, try fix it and try not to fuck up again.

House Of Hippies (via thehouseofhippies)