March 31st, 2013

You asked me if I wanted to get drunk and stay the night, and I said yes, and we ending up just lying there in bed, my head resting on your chest, thinking about all the parties we didn’t go to or the roads we didn’t turn down or the words we never said because we thought they sounded too foolish or romantic or silly. And eventually we came to the conclusion that there’s always gonna be the nights when we break down in the car by ourselves listening to The Smiths in a dark, empty parking lot, or the days when even opening our eyes requires more effort than dragging someone out of a burning building.

But then your hand drifted down and it rested over my heart, and we sat there like that for a while, smoking, the city outside just breathing and breathing, over and over again, all the lights out there symbolizing college girls pinching their skin in the mirror or two elderly people falling in love for what feels like the millionth time. The awkward first dates at coffee shops and the librarians who go home and watch porn for two hours every night. You told me all these extraordinary things were happening every day and that sometimes it didn’t matter what road we didn’t take or the things we never said because somewhere out there, there was another couple lying in a shabby little bed with only a few covers, touching each others’ skin and trying to feel alright again when everything was crashing down on them.

Sleepwalking by Writingsforwinter

(Source: writingsforwinter)

Reblogged from For Emma, Forever Ago
March 31st, 2013
I don’t believe in love at first sight but I do believe in seeing someone from across the room and knowing instantly that they’re going to matter to you. They’re going to play a major role in your life.
Ryan O’Connell

(Source: boxesmadeofcardboard)

March 31st, 2013
Making love was never about you and me in a bed. We made love whenever we held hands.
Ian Thomas, I Wrote This For You  

(Source: awdray)

March 31st, 2013
She wore men’s pyjamas under a man’s blue silk bathrobe, and her jet-black hair had been cut into a Louise Brooks shingle bob with bangs. Her dark eyes were smeared with traces of the previous night’s mascara and kohl. A silk sleep mask had been pushed down around her neck.
The Diviners, by Libba Bray 
Reblogged from garance, la mer opale
March 30th, 2013
You will be stupid. You will worry your parents. You will question your own choices, your relationships, your jobs, your friends, where you live, what you studied in college, that you went to college at all… If that happens, you’re doing it right.
Ira Glass

(Source: prettyeyed-piratesmile)

March 30th, 2013
If you want to identify me, ask me not where I live, or what I like to eat, or how I comb my hair, but ask me what I am living for, in detail, ask me what I think is keeping me from living fully for the thing I want to live for.
Thomas Merton 

(Source: larmoyante)

Reblogged from For Emma, Forever Ago
March 29th, 2013
I always feel this pressure of being a strong and independent icon of womanhood, and without making it look my whole life is revolving around some guy. But loving someone, and being loved means so much to me. We always make fun of it and stuff. But isn’t everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more?
Julie Delpy, Before Sunrise & Before Sunset: Two Screenplays 

(Source: shesthecarr)

Reblogged from purple-ish boots
March 29th, 2013
I don’t need someone to complete me, I need someone to make things a little bit better every now and again.
Jon Richardson

(Source: arnpersand)

Reblogged from infinite
March 29th, 2013
You just do it. You force yourself to get up. You force yourself to put one foot before the other, and God damn it, you refuse to let it get to you. You fight. You cry. You curse. Then you go about the business of living. That’s how I’ve done it. There’s no other way.
Elizabeth Taylor 

(Source: onlinecounsellingcollege)

Reblogged from For Emma, Forever Ago
March 29th, 2013
So here’s my advice: Study broadly and without fear. Learn a language if you can, because that will make your life more interesting. Read a little bit every day. But more importantly, surround yourself with people who you like and make cool stuff with them. In the end, what you do isn’t going to be nearly as interesting or important as who you do it with.
John Green

(Source: h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

Reblogged from MAN.datory
March 28th, 2013
As if you were on fire from within. The moon lives in the lining of your skin.
Pablo Neruda 

(Source: thatquote)

Reblogged from FOX ON THE RUN
March 28th, 2013
It’s just this strange thing I do where I allow myself to briefly fall in love with another human being that I see on a train, or the sidewalk, or in a warm café.
Chelsea Fagan, Dear Beautiful Guys I Pass On The Street: I Love You 

(Source: murmurrs)

Reblogged from For Emma, Forever Ago
March 28th, 2013
If you can’t laugh together in bed, the chances are you are incompatible, anyway. I’d rather hear a girl laugh well than try to turn me on with long, silent, soulful, secret looks. If you can laugh with a woman, everything else falls into place.
Richard Francis Burton
Reblogged from juxtapose
March 28th, 2013
Open all your pores and bathe in all the tides of nature, in all her streams and oceans, at all seasons.
Henry David Thoreau

(Source: terramantra)

Reblogged from For Emma, Forever Ago
March 28th, 2013
When you plant lettuce, if it does not grow well, you don’t blame the lettuce. You look into the reasons it is not doing well. It may need fertilizer, or more water, or less sun. You never blame the lettuce. Yet if we have problems with our friends or our family, we blame the other person. But if we know how to take care of them, they will grow well, like lettuce. Blaming has no positive effect at all, nor does trying to persuade using reason and arguments. That is my experience. No blame, no reasoning, no argument, just understanding. If you understand, and you show that you understand, you can love, and the situation will change.
Thich Nhat Hanh
A website dedicated to the things that inspire a young woman with a good head on her shoulders, an overactive imagination and a constant question on her mind: what kind of woman is she?