"Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic."
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via johnvondoom)
(Source: thelastenglishrose, via journalofanobody)
(via listenlikeurblind)
A Thousand Years (Part 2) | Christina Perri ft. Steve Kazee
(Source: markerjay, via brittanygfs)
"
If I could speak in any language
it would be the one winter flirts with
before kissing the fall with its first closed-mouth snow.
But it would all be a lie.
Sweet talking the p-coat armored
hipster hair crowned girls of autumn
I’d chase them around under fading trees
until the reddest leaves
bury me in flame.
Under the pyres of autumn,
under skies like shallow fire
I would soak soft flesh like summer,
reversing the hungry seasons,
giving girls who so far have only known
the slow crawl into frigid arms
ashen skin, and post-immolation recline.
and that would replace love for me,
that could be love for me,
dead leave blood chroma,
like embers in volcanic rain.
Hungry Seasons
Evan Warren (via i-itch)
(Source: whirl-on)
Punching In A Dream | The Naked & Famous
Two Door Cinema Club-Next Year
"There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me."
Jonathan Safran Foer (via felicefawn)
(Source: larmoyante, via felicefawn)
I was looking at my friend’s cat pictures and she has a cat that’s more attractive than some human girls…
I WASN’T KIDDING
"I begin by declaring to my reader that, by everything good or bad that I have done throughout my life, I am sure that I have earned merit or incurred guilt, and that hence I must consider myself a free agent. … Despite an excellent moral foundation, the inevitable fruit of the divine principles which were rooted in my heart, I was all my life the victim of my senses; I have delighted in going astray and I have constantly lived in error, with no other consolation than that of knowing I have erred. … My follies are the follies of youth. You will see that I laugh at them, and if you are kind you will laugh at them with me."
Giacomo Casanova
"I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry."
Marya Hornbacher (via ruox)
