But The Problem Is, Once You Love Someone, You Can’t Have It All Anymore. Love Comes With Sacrifice.

But the problem is, once you love someone, you can’t have it all anymore. Love comes with sacrifice. That’s how it works.

— Emily Henry, Great Big Beautiful Life (Berkley, April 22, 2025)

More Posts from Bloomstrandilotus and Others

3 weeks ago

“It was a privilege to love you, and it was a privilege to let you go. Both helped shape me into the person I have become.”

— Beau Taplin

2 weeks ago
Roads Of The Caucasus Mountains By Dmitry Kupratsevich
Roads Of The Caucasus Mountains By Dmitry Kupratsevich
Roads Of The Caucasus Mountains By Dmitry Kupratsevich
Roads Of The Caucasus Mountains By Dmitry Kupratsevich

Roads of the Caucasus Mountains by Dmitry Kupratsevich

3 weeks ago

“It is a lonely feeling when someone you care about becomes a stranger.”

— Lemony Snicket, When Did You See Her Last?

3 weeks ago
THE GREATEST MAN IN THE HISTORY!!
THE GREATEST MAN IN THE HISTORY!!
THE GREATEST MAN IN THE HISTORY!!
THE GREATEST MAN IN THE HISTORY!!
THE GREATEST MAN IN THE HISTORY!!
THE GREATEST MAN IN THE HISTORY!!
THE GREATEST MAN IN THE HISTORY!!
THE GREATEST MAN IN THE HISTORY!!

THE GREATEST MAN IN THE HISTORY!!

2 weeks ago

Mi propio sol jaja.

bloomstrandilotus - Kviknar Von
2 weeks ago

"Aunque el miedo me paralice y las dudas me consuman, no puedo quedarme en el suelo. Porque incluso en mis momentos más oscuros, sé que tengo la fuerza para sostener a quienes amo. La verdadera valentía es seguir adelante a pesar del miedo."

Mon-espace

2 weeks ago
text id :                   … And I seem to have such strength in me now, that I think I could stand anything, any suffering, only to be able to say and to repeat to myself every moment, ‘I exist.’ In thousands of agonies—I exist. I'm tormented on the rack—but I exist! Though I sit alone on a pillar—I exist! I see the sun, and if I don't see the sun, I know it's there. And there's a whole life in that, in knowing that the sun is there.

"The Brothers Karamazov", Fyodor Dostoevsky (translated by Constance Garnett)

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bloomstrandilotus - Kviknar Von
Kviknar Von

Lesus Messiah ut, du me decantus

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