It's a back stabbing world, honey.

month

August 2011

“And lastly from that period I remember riding in a taxi one afternoon between...”

– F. Scott Fitzgerald His writing makes me cry because it is so beautiful & perfect.

“Tonight I came back to the hotel alone; the other has decided to return later...”

– Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments, 1977, trans. Richard Howard (via proustitute)

I am tired & broken & sick of the same old heartache. My head hurts & my chest is numb. They say your heart can’t feel pain, but I now know that’s a lie.

I really am sick of getting up at 4am for work.

“How you love is more important than WHO you love. And how that love helps you or...”

– H. D., from a letter to Silvia Dobson on her analysis with Freud, 31 May 1934 (via proustitute)

“You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from...”

– Jonathan Safran Foer (via ennayak)

He rang. Knew he would.

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”

– Oscar Wilde (via thenocturnals)

Ok, I'm going to bed tumblr. I hope I dream of...