Jack Kerouac, On the Road (via blua)
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The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.
Chuck Palahniuk (via kaylinviazanko)
(Source: byrdseed, via bannaagnasco)
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I wish I had the courage not to fight and doubt everything… I wish, just once, I could say, ‘This. This is good enough.
Charles Bukowski (via you-st0le)
(Source: theburnthatkeepseverything, via failurebyxdesign)
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… and we are in bed together
laughing
and we don’t care
about anything …
The Worst I’ve Felt, I Wrote This For You (via cornflowers)
(Source: gypsyveins, via sentimental-tunes)
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You’ll kiss them, even though you can see they’re sick. Even though you know they’ll make you sick.
Andrea Gibson (via fabulousbitch69)
(Source: vacants, via sentimental-tunes)
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Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
Howard, Fresh Meat (via lofticriess)
(Source: romini, via analyticanimals)
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All relationships are doomed. If you emotionally undress in front of someone, they will pour acid on your shivering skin and leave you to die.
“The Road” by Raymond Carver, from Where Water Comes Together With Other Water (via dreamsilver)
(Source: marikoyama, via vanniaalexandra)
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Do me a favor this morning. Draw the curtain and come back to bed.
Forget the coffee. We’ll pretend
we’re in a foreign country, and in love.
N’tima (via artistsuffer)
(Source: mariaarroyo, via vanniaalexandra)
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Marry your best friend. I do not say that lightly. Really, truly find the strongest, happiest friendship in the person you fall in love with. Someone who speaks highly of you. Someone you can laugh with. The kind of laughs that make your belly ache, and your nose snort. The embarrassing, earnest, healing kind of laughs. Wit is important. Life is too short not to love someone who lets you be a fool with them. Make sure they are somebody who lets you cry, too. Despair will come. Find someone that you want to be there with you through those times. Most importantly, marry the one that makes passion, love, and madness combine and course through you. A love that will never dilute - even when the waters get deep, and dark.
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No one wants to be the person who is made fun of for caring too much about something, who treats in earnest a situation that everyone else considers absurd. Even in personal relationships, feeling too heavily invested while simultaneously understanding that the other person couldn’t be more detached is one of the most profound feelings of embarrassment we can experience. Because it isn’t simply the embarrassment of making a mistake or a poor choice, it’s a shame over the kind of human being you are and how you see the world around you. To be shamed for your sincerity is to be reminded that you are dependent on something which is not dependent on you — that you are, once again, vulnerable.
David Levithan, Every Day (via barbieandken)
(Source: durianseeds, via barbieandken)
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I love you— I do— but I am afraid of making that love too important. Because you’re always going to leave me. We can’t deny it. You’re always going to leave.
Clive Barker (via coffeeurlgirl)
(Source: rabbitinthemoon, via flannel)
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You cut up a thing that’s alive and beautiful to find out how it’s alive and why it’s beautiful, and before you know it, it’s neither of those things, and you’re standing there with blood on your face and tears in your sight and only the terrible ache of guilt to show for it.
i never really liked
my name
much
until i found out
what it tastes like
when you sigh it
into my
mouth
(Source: oceanicforest, via discardedniceness)
J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (via larmoyante)
(via discardedniceness)
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She was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or else they think they have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid they’d bore you or something. Jane was different. We’d get into a goddam movie or something, and right away we’d start holding hands, and we wouldn’t quit till the movie was over. And without changing the position or making a deal out of it. You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were.
Charlotte Brontë; Jane Eyre (via allmymetaphors)
(via discardedniceness)
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You know nothing about me, and nothing about the sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and in sickness it would still be dear. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still.
Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower (via durianquotes)
(via satansbuttcrack)
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