Sing You a Love You Song

Before the laughter and the cheer
Dissolves into his memory
Taste of vodka on his lips
And thoughts of murder and doom
Her eyes appeared to bloom
He wanted to touch them but was afraid
She'd be taken aback
Then what would he say?

They walked to the garden in the park
When it was empty after dark
Then spread out a blanket and laid down
And in a voice that no one else could hear
He whispered in her ear
"Although I can't sing it now, be still
Someday, baby, I will
Sing you a love you song"

She rolled over and a kiss
Laid softly on his chin
And said, "You know maybe there's a chance
That your feelings you've mistook
Or have presently overlooked
You say you don't love me
But yet perhaps you just
Forgot that you do"

He said that, "I love you, please believe
The only matter of concern
Is that your love will one day fade
If that should happen I would die
And that's the reason why
I know I can't sing it now, but be still
Because someday, baby, I will
Sing you a love you song"

She said, "How could you question
When the root of my affection
Is so plain and obvious?
It grew from the overwhelming pleasure
Of just being near you
And now you bring in doubts
And they are smothering our love!"

Fanfiction: James & Lily

"Lily still can’t quite believe this is happening. If she had been asked a year ago to compile a list of "People Lily Evans Will Never Kiss On an Overly-Romantic Starlit Night with Virgin Christmastime Snow Underfoot On the Outskirts of Hogwarts," James Potter would have been at the very top, written in all capitals, underlined thrice for emphasis. Even now, with his arms around her waist, pulling her against his warm body, her mouth dancing around his, listening to the soft, pleasing hum that comes from James’ throat, she can’t wrap her mind around the enormity of it all. She’s falling in love"

3000 Consonants

"We summered in Moscow and wintered in St Petersburg. You sat on the cold stone beaches and lathered up with SPF 45, reading Anna Karenina. Soviet-era icebreakers ploughed along the coastline and you waved at Russian sailors who muttered filthy curses at you, and I swatted down mosquitoes the size of small dogs with your copy of War and Peace. SWAK! went the mosquitoes. "Ëb tvoju mat'!" said the sailors.

All of our sugar was made from beets; all of our liquor was made from potatoes. There was a wheat field behind the house; there was a wheat field in front of our house. There were wheat fields EVERYWHERE. "I'd kill for zlo'ebuchy ear of corn right now," I complained.

The problems of the peasants weren't your own. You had real problems. You'd hacked an old lady to bits with an axe, and then complained your new ball gowns wouldn't be ready for the upcoming season. We were one step ahead of Napoleon's armies, and you were worried that your husband had become bored with you. We had a cart loaded with all our belongings, and you wept that there was no room for your dead mother's harpsichord. Moscow burned and you worried about getting new sheet music for the piano.

You had over 3000 names on your Christmas card list, and their names were comprised entirely of consonants"

The Grim Grotto

"The way sadness works is one of the strangest riddles of the world. If you are stricken with a great sadness, you may feel as if you have been set aflame, not only because of the enormous pain, but also because your sadness may spread over your life, like smoke from an enormous fire. You might find it difficult to see anything but your own sadness, the way smoke can cover a landscape so that all anyone can see is black. You may find that happy things are tainted with sadness, the way smoke leaves its ashen colors and scents on everything it touches. And you may find that if someone pours water all over you, you are damp and distracted, but not cured of your sadness, the way a fire department can douse a fire but never recover what has been burnt down."
- Lemony Snickett, the grim grotto

In the Mood for Love

Chow Mo-wan: "In the old days, if someone had a secret they didn't want to share... you know what they did? "
Ah Ping: "Have no idea."
Chow Mo-wan: "They went up a mountain, found a tree, carved a hole in it, and whispered the secret into the hole. Then they covered it with mud. And leave the secret there forever."
Ah Ping: "What a pain! I'd just go to get laid."
Chow Mo-wan: "Not everyone's like you."