Moments et les Secondes

This desperation leaves me overjoyed. With fading lights that lead us past the lives that we destroy. sc_online_t(728197," ","#000000"); Users Online Counter

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

She would never change, but one day at the touch of a fingertip she would fall to dust.

Simone de Beauvoir, from The Mandarins (via violentwavesofemotion)

[wnq-writers]

Time will come when someone would look into your eyes and see how deep, mysterious and beautiful your soul is.

juanlucio (via wnq-writers)

[the-unintended-muse-deactivated]

What you burnt, broke, and tore is still in my hands. I am the keeper of fragile things and I have kept of you what is indissoluble.

Anaïs Nin (via the-unintended-muse)

[wnq-writers]

There are times when loving somebody means remaining silent; when you have to refuse to light the match even though the words burn in your chest like gasoline and moonshine.

Z.M.  (via wnq-writers)

[wnq-writers]

And when the rain stops you will have to decide if I was your storm or if you were mine.

Elizabeth Wilks, from I am your storm (via wnq-writers)

[viperslang]

I am aglow, lit from within as if your hands  have left  chandeliers inside my skin

Scherezade Siobhan (via viperslang)

[f-crystallize-blog]

[solitaria]

(by 半顆丸)

[artizan3]

[wnq-writers]

Please remember you are still lovely despite being bruised and scarred from all the times you tried to crack your body open to let yourself out.

Lucy Quin (via wnq-writers)

[wordsnquotes]

Sometimes you search so hard for words. You look for a way to interpret the language of this heart and the unspoken bond you feel. But in the end you are left with nothing but silence. And deep down you hope it’s understood.

Yasmin Mogahed (via wordsnquotes)

[solitaria]

(via fabrizia milia)

[dark--mornings]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

When you are silent you are again beautiful.

Virginia Woolf, from The Waves (via violentwavesofemotion)

[solitaria]

(by luciaalonsoherranz)

[the-final-sentence]

Then turned his cheek to her reaching hand and touched her through the veils of time.

Diana Gabaldon, from The Scottish Prisoner (via the-final-sentence)

[antonostlundphoto]

Ebba (Elite). Photography by Anton Östlund.