already broken

everyone's a whore, grace; we just sell different parts of ourselves.

[killingyves]

i’m holding onto this idea of perfection. so tight. something’s gotta give.

[renissance]

Padfoot: a Sirius Black fanmix

     “We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. 

           What matters is the part we choose to act on.                                                                                                                       That’s who we really are.” 

+ listen

[shareaquote]

How strange is it that after all that, we’re strangers again.

citlalliv  (via wordsnquotes)

[arsantiquis]

Clouds by Ambera Wellmann, part II (x)

[silver-blonde]

[glossomly]

(Via WeHeartIt)

[consquisiteparole-blog]

Paris Review, The Art of Fiction No. 40

[wnq-writers]

Out of all the galaxies, constellation of stars, billions of people, and our paths collide. Don’t you ever realize how magical it is?

tragedyintoart (via wordsnquotes)

[wordsnquotes]

She’s known sadness, and it has made her kind.

Nathan Filer, The Shock of the Fall (via wordsnquotes)

[melisica]

brandon woelfel

[redhawke-deactivated20170628]

We have no choice but to try for our insatiable curiosity, for our fear in what should happen if we don’t. You are the explorer now.

[wnq-writers]

Being taken for granted was just another thing she accepted.

hippii  (via wordsnquotes)

[wnq-writers]

Do I like you, or the attention you give me?

i-always-miss-you  // the 10 words i always find myself asking (via wordsnquotes)

[spatialll-deactivated20201125]

movie posters: rogue one

rebellions are built on hope.

[ashara-deactivated20171021]

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE by George R.R. Martin

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Old Nan said quietly, “what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snow falls a hundred feed deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the white walkers move through the woods.” “You mean the Others,” Bran said querulously. “The Others,” Old Nan agreed. “Thousands of years ago, a winter fell that was cold and hard and endless beyond all memory of man. There came a night that lasted a generation, and kings shivered and died in their castles even as the swineherds in their hovels. Women smothered their children rather than see them starve, and cried, and felt their tears freeze on their cheeks.” Her voice and her needles fell silent, and she glanced up at Bran with pale, filmy eyes and asked, “So, child. This is the sort of story you like?”

[jamessmorgann]

[unrealunearths]

moodboard: christmas + green (for anonymous)