(via mariecoquette)
(via mariecoquette)
We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all.
—Joan Didion, from The Year of Magical Thinking (via kafk-a)
Limousine Eyelash
Oh, baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wine glass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet cakes and milkshakes
I am a delusion angel
I am a fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don’t want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we’re going
Lodged in life
Like two branches in a river
Flowing downstream
Caught in the current
I’ll carry you, you’ll carry me
That’s how it could be
Don’t you know me?
Don’t you know me by now?
—Before Sunrise (via electricmassofsteel)
She would be a new person, she vowed. They said no matter how far a mule travels it can never come back a horse, but she would show them all.
—Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (via quoted-books)
The thoughts he put in her head. Someone should’ve arrested him for it.
—Junot Díaz from The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (via whereislittlemaggie)
(Source: chroniclesofher.com, via alicecatherine92)
(via sihlvers)
(via sihlvers)