→ May 2012
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Ellie Goulding - High For This (The Weeknd Cover) by
→ May 2012
coffeeislovely:I wish I could live inside a book store. and be happy all the time and not hate myself over stupid things and just read all the time and you would love me all the time and be there to kiss me.
→ May 2012
Sometimes things fall apart for no reason at all, and can’t be fixed.
(Source: counting-airplanes, via keepthishope)
→ May 2012 "It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but the young know they are wretched for they are full of the truthless ideal which have been instilled into them, and each time they come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded. It looks as if they were victims of a conspiracy; for the books they read, ideal by the necessity of selection, and the conversation of their elders, who look back upon the past through a rosy haze of forgetfulness, prepare them for an unreal life. They must discover for themselves that all they have read and all they have been told are lies, lies, lies; and each discovery is another nail driven into the body on the cross of life."
— W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage
(Source: vanished)
→ May 2012 "A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."
— James Joyce, Dubliners
(Source: vanished)
→ May 2012 "I just want you to know that you’re very special… and the only reason I’m telling you is that I don’t know if anyone else ever has."
— Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
(Source: vanished)
