Lips Of Honey Eyes Of Fire

Capricorn/01' Europe/Afghan Insta: hilleyy ⋆˚꩜｡

[walktovirtue]

origami iris + orchid before work ❀

[frailbug]

you think that you're so alone in the world then you read literature from hundreds of years ago and you realize that other people have always felt this way

[db-v0id-deactivated20260530]

[l6veletters-deactivated20190725]

have you ever met someone that was sunshine in human form

[aphrodirrty]

[fayriequeene]

[iamheavymeta-lll]

[haverst]

source / Haverst

[nodovess]

calla lily flutes

[aphrodirrty]

I need this

[04k96]

[iamheavymeta-lll]

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

Grief is really just love. It's all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go

— Jamie Anderson

[artemisiasea]

Nature is just so unfathomably epic and nothing deserves our reverence and humility more. That we can walk along wild chasms of immense beauty and power, that these openings and valleys and oceans and expanses are within us is a gift of being alive. May we never forget this lifeline of restoration.

[heartcountry]

love is real i saw it once outside my window and it stopped to look at me but kept on walking and i thought it’d come back but in the end maybe it was just passing through

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

over the garden wall is just like. here is a cartoon. it is ten ten-minute episodes and is about the length of a movie. you can watch it in a little under two hours. its a masterpiece with incredibly beautiful backgrounds and perfect pacing and an absolutely charming autumn atmosphere. it's only seasonally appropriate to watch for about two months out of the year because It's The Autumn Show. you hear the opening song and your heart fills with so much nostalgia it floods into your throat and you want to start crying. it's a rock fact

[petaltexturedskies]

Anaïs Nin, in a diary entry dated 13 March 1925, from The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin: 1920-1923

[lifeandjournal]