February 2012
“Here she is, all mine, trying her best to give me all she can. How could I ever...”
– Haruki Murakami (via fluffynips)
{À cœur vaillant rien d’impossible}: cartographe:... →
52hearts:
cartographe:
I wish I knew the language of hands. There are hundreds of words in the turn of a wrist, thousands in the trembling of fingertips. But there are dozens of interpretations for the clutching of a fist, the stretching of a finger - there are too many exceptions and not enough…
New Dedications
dearoldlove:
I’m going to dedicate myself to my writing, my sleep, my madness, my sadness, my unhappiness, because I couldn’t dedicate myself to you.
jesseekkah:
“Blood Bank” - by Bon Iver
do you ever cry because you’re not british
decemberwrists:
Last night my dream was like a movie, with montages and voice-overs and seamless transitions. I wasn’t in it and the boy I dreamed about was someone I’d never met.
“If the moon smiled, she would resemble you.
You leave the same impression
Of...”
– Sylvia Plath (via caylala)
