Unless it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love, It’s a waste of your time....– Dream for an Insomniac (via deadmelodies) I will always re-blog this. (via lyriquediscorde) (via hammocknotes) (via constantwanderlust) (via witchindarkroom) (via helloidrinktea) (via killingbambi) (via uppereastside)
I love New York on summer afternoons when everyone’s away. There’s something...– f. scott fitzgerald, the great gatsby (via victoryblues)
I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and...– Jenna as portrayed by Keri Russell, Waitress (via victoryblues)
It’s a wonder I’m even alive. Sometimes I think that. I think that I can’t...– Augusten Burroughs (via aristobrat) (via apologies)
You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love...– Bob Marley (via cuddleblog) (via eatyourflowers) He made it so simple
time was passing like a hand waving from a train i wanted to be on. i hope you...– jonathan safran foer (via scribble-scribbles ) (via suzywire)
Written on the body
suzywire: ‘The pillow will comfort you in the long unbroken hours. If you sleep you will unconsciously benefit from its presence. If you wake the bed will seem less large and lonely.’ Who writes these books? Do they really think, those quite concerned counsellors, that two feet of linen-bound stuffing will assuage a broken heart? I don’t want a pillow, I want your moving breathing flesh. I want...
God I love Chuck
Chuck: I love this town. I'm going to have to tell my parents the hotel they just bought is serving minors.
Serena: And if you get a drink, they're also serving pigs.
Chuck: Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty.
Serena: You just love when a girl talks to you.
Chuck: Actually, I prefer them when they're not talking.
Serena: [Sarcastically] Mm. I've missed your witty banter.
Chuck: Let's catch up! Take our clothes off, stare at each other.
suzywire: We are living, and we are dying. As seconds past, circulating with a quiet clap, parroting across the face of clock, measured still by the hushed whistle of breath, the tender humming of our heart, we are drawn nearer to an end, a final destination. This should not be a terrorizing thought, but a thought to encourage the omission of the arresting apprehension of fear, to discard the...
we are the dreamers
suzywire: Dreamers dream, and we see, not black and white, but vivacious, living colors. We see potential, promise. We are secret keepers of hope, gingerly settling a forgotten faith in the slip between the heart and the faint of our breastbone. We are skies without end, wild horses without reins. We are your sister, your brother, your neighbor. We are the bumbling man in the corner store, the...
i'm not trying to pull you, even though i would...
(via georgasm) I love the english. Full stop :]
Even his I love you’s,” she said, “were like tiny daggers, like little needles...– Lorrie Moore, What is Seized (via victoryblues)