Member of The Internet Defense League Two-Way Monologues

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.

it’s sweater weather. and clever weather. and getting to know you better weather.

nayyirah waheed (via nayyirahwaheed)

(via nayyirahwaheed)


T.S. Eliot (Happy Birthday)


T.S. Eliot (Happy Birthday)

Even if you know what’s coming, you’re never prepared for how it feels.

Natalie Standiford, How to Say Goodbye in Robot (via larmoyante)

we have now been accounted for
and it is written on our empty graves
that After everything still I stayed.
And I mean it.
I stayed. I stayed. I stayed.

Buddy Wakefield, “Self-Portrait”   (via malglories)

(Source: howtoleavetheozarks, via alonesomes)

I told him I believed in hell, and that certain people, like me, had to live in hell before they died, to make up for missing out on it after death, since they didn’t believe in life after death, and what each person believed happened to him when he died.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via observando)


Cassandra Clare


Cassandra Clare

(Source: desireforart, via alonesomes)

How wonderful it is to be silent with someone.

Kurt Tucholsky (via shantiwinds)

(Source: alunaes, via fuckyeahexistentialism)

A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone, and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants everyone to know just how badly they’ve all let him down.

Nick Hornby, A Long Way Down (via observando)

(via a-poor-misguided-fool)

I would cling to unhappiness because it was a known, familiar state. When I was happier, it was because I knew I was on my way back to misery. I’ve never been convinced that happiness is the object of the game. I’m wary of happiness.

Hugh Laurie (via observando)

If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn’t be filled?

Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes (via observando)

I never understood desire until I felt your hands around my throat.

Then there is the boy you can never stop thinking about. Whenever you see his name, it trips you up. Even if it’s one that belongs to many others, even if he belongs to someone else.

You know he is a symbol of your weakness, your Kryptonite. How he rushes in like wildfire and burns through everything you worked so hard to build since he last left you in ashes.

Lang Leav (Signposts, Lullabies)

(Source: langleav)

To give pleasure to a single heart by a single act is better than a thousand heads bowing in prayer.

Mahatma Gandhi (via observando)

I’m not used to being loved. I wouldn’t know what to do.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, More Than Just A House (via yominokuni)

(Source: fitzgeraldquotes, via nathansmmrs)