Forgive me, for all the things I did but mostly for the ones that I did not.
Donna Tartt (via quotemadness)
Mike Driver
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RMH
Fai_Ryy
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tumblr dot com

★
Claire Keane
sheepfilms
almost home
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
d e v o n

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Jules of Nature
Sade Olutola

izzy's playlists!
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@finestbookquotes
Forgive me, for all the things I did but mostly for the ones that I did not.
Donna Tartt (via quotemadness)
Stop measuring days by degree of productivity and start experiencing them by degree of presence.
Alan Watts (via quotemadness)
If you asked me now who I am, the only answer I could give with any certainty would be my name. For the rest: my loves, my hates, down even to my deepest desires, I can no longer say whether these emotions are my own, or stolen from those I once so desperately wished to be.
Evelyn Waugh (via quotemadness)
Cover me with you. I want the line between us to disappear now.
Tyler Knott Gregson (via quotemadness)
Humans have always been better at killing than any other living thing.
Dmitry Glukhovsky
Book: Metro 2033
One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.
Sigmund Freud (via quotemadness)
Just as you have loved before, you will love again.
Warsan Shire (via quotemadness)
We read five words on the first page of a really good novel and we begin to forget that we are reading printed words on a page; we begin to see images.
John Gardner (via quotemadness)
I don’t suppose you have many friends. Neither do I. I don’t trust people who say they have a lot of friends. It’s a sure sign that they don’t really know anyone.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón (via quotemadness)
When my absence doesn’t alter your life, then my presence has no meaning in it.
Unknown (via quotemadness)
Sometimes it’s not the people who change, it’s the mask that falls off.
Unknown (via quotemadness)
Life wants you to fight it. Learn how to make it your own.
Colleen Hoover (via quotemadness)
I was quiet, but I was not blind.
Jane Austen (via quotemadness)
Dark is a way and light is a place Heaven that never was Nor will be ever is always true
Dylan Thomas,
“Poem on His Birthday”
Hope. Nothing is more intoxicating.
Inkdeath by Cornelia Funke
In love-it sounded like a sickness without any cure...
Inkdeath by Cornelia Funke
The wind will rise: we can only close the shutters.
“Storm Warnings”
-Adrienne Cecile Rich