I am a product of long corridors, empty sunlit rooms, upstairs indoor silences,...– C. S. Lewis (via amorette)
What is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I...– Walt Whitman (via pavorst)
I want you always to remember me. Will you remember that I existed, and that I...– Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (via sadseas)
lorarouge: my whole life consists of wondering whether or not to make the bitchy comment the answer is always yes
andrafleish: There’s a war inside my head, I’d say I’m getting used to it, I’m getting over it, I’m getting back in bed.
fleurishes: The missing comes slowly, like aging does, comes quietly in the night while sleep clings to my lashes and cheekbones and mouth. One day I woke up and everything was different. I could see people I’d run into by accident, snatches of grass or dirt or hair or more skin on an arm or calf after stepping out of the shower. I am made of missing, of constantly reaching and yearning for...
some symphonies remind me of certain cities and certain rooms, make me realize...– Bukowski (via coffeeislovely)
I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and...– Sylvia Plath (via musingsinfemininity)
For you, I was a chapter. For me, you were the book.– Tom Mcneal (via calloway)
Every line in The Great Gatsby is magic