quoting books

I miss you a lot and I don’t know if you miss me at all but if you do then please give me sign. I wish I knew what it felt like to be missed instead of it being the other way round.
—  Tenari Ioapo // Does anyone else miss someone a little too much?
I wish I could read a book on what it would take to get you to fall in love. And I wish I could download an app that told me when you were happy or mad or jealous or confused. And I wish I could look up at the stars and they’d tell me what to say to you and when to say it. Because you’re a little too complicated for someone who likes things simple and I know you think I’m good at solving puzzles but I need something- just one thing- to be a little bit easier right now.
I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from skim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me happens to me as I am discovering this. I will love you if you don’t marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else – your co-star, perhaps, or Y., or even O., or anyone Z. through A., even R. although sadly I believe it will be quite some time before two women can be allowed to marry – and I will love you if you have a child, and I will love you if you have two children, or three children, or even more, although I personally think three is plenty, and I will love you if you never marry at all, and never have children, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all, and I must say that on late, cold nights I prefer this scenario out of all the scenarios I have mentioned. That… is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.
—  Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters
Maybe we don’t end up together. Maybe that’s not how the story ends. But ten years from now I’ll still be thinking about you when I can’t sleep at night. I’m still going to think of our memories when everything goes wrong. You’re still going to be my safe place. It doesn’t matter if we live in different cities or countries. It wouldn’t matter if you moved to the moon. You will always be my home.
—  from an unfinished story #750