Give me a few days of peace in your arms I need it terribly. I'm ragged, worn, exhausted. After that I can face the world.
—Henry Miller, from a letter to Anaïs Nin, featured in A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953

Janaina Medeiros
ojovivo

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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YOU ARE THE REASON

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d e v o n

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@theuniversebetweenwords
Give me a few days of peace in your arms I need it terribly. I'm ragged, worn, exhausted. After that I can face the world.
—Henry Miller, from a letter to Anaïs Nin, featured in A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953
Happiness is holding someone in your arms and knowing you hold the whole world.
—Orhan Pamuk
when i was little, i thought love was about red roses and expensive dinners.. truth is, love is giving her half your fries when she said she wasn't hungry. it's waking up at 4am to her snoring and refraining from shoving her off the bed. it's talking in accents just for shits, and trying to embarrass one another in public. it's going on adventures, and making fun of each other. it's stupid fights and memorable make ups. love isn't pretty and romantic.. love is just stumbling through life with your best friend.
—Unknown
We looked at each other a little too long to be "just friends".
—Unknown
I was starting to recover. But then you looked at me again.
—Unknown
we're all killers.
we've all killed parts of ourselves to survive.
we've all got blood on our hands. something somewhere had to die so we could stay alive.
- if memories could bleed, if dreams could - scream | m.a.w
There are far too many silent sufferers. Not because they don't yearn to reach out, but because they've tried and found no one who cares.
—Richelle E. Goodrich
When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside walking through their days with no idea who they are.
—Laurie Halse
I don't think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love.
—Unknown
I'm not a mess but a deeply feeling person in a messy world. I explain that now, when someone asks me why I cry so often, I say, 'For the same reason I laugh so often--because I'm paying attention.' I tell them that we can choose to be perfect and admired or to be real and loved. We must decide.
—Glennon Doyle Melton,
If only my heart were as cold as I pretend it is, maybe I could get over this.
—Jessica Katoff
In a sense, I'm the one who ruined me: I did it myself.
—Haruki Murakami, 1084
Maybe this world is another planet's hell.
—Aldous Huxley
I could disappear from the face of the earth, and the world would go on moving without the slightest twinge. Things were tremendously complicated, to be sure, but one thing was clear: no one needed me.
—Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I'm one of them.
—Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine
I Wish I wasn't a dreamer I have ruined this life for myself