fuck yeah, literary quotes
Tagged
libba bray
And for a moment, I understand that I have friends on this lonely path; that sometimes your place is not something you find, but something you have when you need it.
It is funny how you do not miss affection until it is given, but once it is, it can never be enough; you would drown in it if possible.
People have a habit of inventing fictions they will believe wholeheartedly in order to ignore the truth they cannot accept.
When I dream, I dream of him. For several nights now he’s come to me, waving from a distant shore as if he’s been waiting patiently for me to arrive. He doesn’t utter a word, but his smile says everything: I’ve missed you.
It is funny how you do not miss affection until it is given, but once it is, it can never be enough; you would drown in it if possible.
I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment.
They faded before their own eyes, till they were nothing more than living ghosts, haunting each other with what could be. With what can’t be. There, now. Isn’t that the scariest story you’ve ever heard?
I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment.
