I am a lucky, lucky girl.
Happy happy happy.
Here comes a feeling you thought you’d forgotten.
She was bored. She loved, had capacity to love, for love, to give and accept...– William Faulkner, The Town: A Novel of the Snopes Family (via thatkindofwoman)
I really, truly am trying.
I’m trying so hard to be happy and content. I’ve planted herbs and flowers, I’ve baked bagels, and redecorated my house. I’ve bought good coffee and taken walks. I’ve talked to my parents and remembered that while I have very few friends in this city, I am blessed to have amazing people spread all over this county. And still, I feel empty and alone.
I reside somewhere between real solidarity and self pity.
I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. If you are...– Roald Dahl (via rainydaysandblankets)
“There are only pieces of you left. Pieces of what you knew, covered by debris of what you now know. You are in parts, a person of fragments. But somewhere beneath the shreds of pain and shards of distrust, it remains: a small ball of light both meek and ferocious. Weak certainly, but dangerous, for in spite of it all, it has survived. Secret and lovely and waiting, certain now that it can...
I don’t remember the last time I went to bed happy.
Seduce me. Write letters to me. And poems, I love poems. Ravish me with your...– Anne Boleyn (via c-oquetry)
The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to...– John Pierpont (via blua)
Respect yourself enough to walk away from anything that no longer serves you,...– Robert Tew (via agentlemenscoup) How apropos.
Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast...– The Winter of the Air (via shattermybones) This, a thousand times, this.
I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature. My attachments...– Jane Austen (via thatkindofwoman)