… and the more hurt she gets, the more venomous she grows.
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights (via theliteraryjournals)
Peter Solarz
Xuebing Du
tumblr dot com
Misplaced Lens Cap
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
wallacepolsom

Discoholic 🪩
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Janaina Medeiros
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
hello vonnie
Not today Justin
Today's Document
YOU ARE THE REASON
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Stranger Things

PR's Tumblrdome
cherry valley forever

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we're not kids anymore.

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@princessonthesteeple
… and the more hurt she gets, the more venomous she grows.
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights (via theliteraryjournals)
me: (shamelessly projecting) i love this character so much, they are me. we are, in fact, one and the same. i have a list of six hundred traits and characteristics we share and
brain: so... you love yourself
me: [does not compute]
Better to love too much than too little.
I fall in love with ideas and fantasies rather than whole beings and then I sit here and wonder why I’m still alone. It’s because I don’t f*cking pay attention. I’m too busy thinking about tomorrow that today falls through the cracks.
Ryan O’Connell, I’m Trying to Love You More (via wordsnquotes)
Reblog if you'd marry your icon.
My wife did 😂😂
I need to be alone. I need to ponder my shame and my despair in seclusion; I need the sunshine and the paving stones of the streets without companions, without conversation, face to face with myself, with only the music of my heart for company.
Henry Miller (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
Holliday Grainger as Lucrezia Borgia in “The Borgias”
>> Skins UK Blog <<
Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes; for those who love with heart and soul there is no separation.
Rumi (via quotemadness)
The essence of compassion is a desire to alleviate the suffering of others and to promote their well-being.
The Dalai Lama (via purplebuddhaproject)
Thomas Francis Dicksee (1819—1895)
“Did I just agree to dance with Mr. Darcy?. It would be most inconvenient since I have sworn to loathe him for all eternity.”
Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.
W. B. Yeats The Stolen Child (via kkmmaaa)