Our own front door can be a wonderful thing,
or a sight we dread;
rarely is it only a door.
– Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?
Tag: dread
I leaned me …
I leaned me forward to find her lips,
and claim her utterly in a kiss,
when the lightning flew across her face,
and I saw her for the flaring space of a second,
afraid of the clips of my arms,
inert with dread,
wilted in fear of my kiss.
– D. H. Lawrence