MakennaJoy

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[arearchive]

[kisxmesoft]

[redrola]

[nordlin]

caroline.chagnon

[flowerytale]

Jane Austen, from Sense and Sensibility

[kakaollusut-deactivated20240810]

[cynthia-viv-deactivated20240204]

And in the end, we were all just humans… Drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

[thcartierrug]

[wedarkacademia]

[unbound-blue]

[dolstoi-deactivated20231210]

[sapphic-willow]

Does such a thing as ‘the fatal flaw’ that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life exist outside literature? I used to think it didn’t. But now I think it does. I think mine is this: the morbid longing of the picturesque at all costs. Donna tart, a secret history

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

People run from rain but sit in bathtubs full of water.

— Charles Bukowski (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

[awholevibex]

[queenmoriarty]

The idea of living there, of not having to go back ever again to asphalt and shopping malls and modular furniture;

of living there with Charles and Camilla and Henry and Francis and maybe even Bunny;

of no one marrying or going home or getting a job in a town a thousand miles away or doing any of the traitorous things friends do after college;

of everything remaining exactly as it was, that instant – the idea was so truly heavenly that I’m not sure I thought, even then, it could ever really happen,

but I like to believe I did.

~ Donna Tartt, The Secret History

[beautifulrosy]

[beautifulrosy]