it's about love.

Because in the end, it's all about love.

[extrasad]

[lustyartist-deactivated20150630]

…she bloomed in his hands.

Anais Nin, “Little Birds” (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

[wordsnquotes]

…and I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.

Dickinson, Emily // The Letters of Emily Dickinson  (via thatkindofwoman)

[the1975music]

// T H I S M U S T B E M Y D R E A M // L O V E  

[13neighbors]

Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment  (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

[hplyrikz]

I can feel this heart inside me and I conclude it exists. I can touch this world and I also conclude that it exists. All my knowledge ends at this point. The rest is hypothesis.

Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus (via hplyrikz)

[wordsnquotes]

How does she look? Anxious and unhappy, but very beautiful.

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (via wordsnquotes)

[euo]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

You explode in me here and there, now and always; you are causing a brain seizure in my fucking heart. I’ve been so actively lethargic, I am in goddamn literal pain without you.

Ernest Hemingway, from a letter to Martha Gellhorn  (via thatkindofwoman)

[wordsnquotes]

He loved her, of course, but better than that, he chose her, day after day. Choice: that was the thing.

Sherman Alexie, The Toughest Indian in the World (via wordsnquotes)

[allcapsmaine]

bliss // forever halloween

[surrealismart]

All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.

André Breton, Mad Love (via wordsnquotes)

[wordsnquotes]

He loved her, he loved her, and until he’d loved her she had never minded being alone.

Truman Capote, Summer Crossing (via meltlikethis)

[dryyoureyes-startbelieving]

Make yourself a priority once in a while. It’s not selfish. It’s necessary.

(via dryyoureyes-startbelieving)

[murmurrs]

We are all broken, that’s how the light gets in.

Ernest Hemingway (via murmurrs)

[wordsnquotes]

But the heart has its own memory and I have forgotten nothing.

Albert Camus, The Fall (via wordsnquotes)

[corsicans]