Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.Forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit. Ad astra per aspera. Sapere aude
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Aging is realizing that you're now officially older than YA main characters
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i am a lover. but underneath that i'm a hater. and then underneath that i'm a lover again
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It's always “I'd do anything for you” and never “Tell me what I must slay, what I must steal, tell me the riddle I must solve or the hag I must trick. Only tell me the way, and I will do it, no matter the danger, no matter the hardship, no matter the cost.”
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unstoppable force (wanting to be the kindest version of myself) vs immovable object (all the anger and hatred I have inside myself)
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girl who is sitting in a chair quietly with a neutral expression actually screaming very loudly in her head
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I am convinced that every reader had at least met a person who blames things on books.
like you tell them a problem that you and they respond with like, " All those things you read are filling your head with nonsense or you’re getting these crazy ideas from the things you read”
sir, if the things I read are really getting into my head, I will no longer spend my time in this conversation and just go plot how I would infiltrate the royal ball, save the magic and take over the kingdom.
plus, what do you know about what I read? They’re called fantasy and fiction FOR A REASON
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Never estimate the power of manifestation
When Cardan wrote Jude's name on that paper over and over again he manifested her
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“And I’m quiet, all despite the raging in my head.”
— Hands Like Houses, “Weight”
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ⓘ This user wants to be someone's sweet villain and darling god, dearest punishment and sweet nemesis, who they think is the only real thing in a land of ghosts, and by who they are forever undone.
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If you happen to stumble upon my posts on Tumblr, you have just found pieces of my diary written during my teenage girl angst and sadness era ( all which will become historical anecdotes in the future)
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“You’re [a] monster. But so am I—which is why I can’t turn away from you.”
— Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Novel
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Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous
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theseus’ ship
Unknown // welderwings on instagram // Halsey // flora cash // Taylor Swift // The Danish Girl (2015) // Taylor Swift // @arkhevil // Taylor Swift // Richard Siken
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If you want me obedient, prince, kill me and carry my corpse.
— Zafira bint Iskandar
We Hunt The Flame by Hafsah Faizal {@hafsahfaizal}
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confirmed: roma montagov and cardan greenbriar are both the worst at sending letters
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I want to live life as a kind person, one who is deeply flawed but still tries her best to be a speck of light for other people. I don't want to be a ray of sunshine because that's not who I am. I am a nihilist, a pessimist, most days are not good ones, and certainly not the one who lights up the room whenever they come in. What I want is to look for something good in everything and everyone because no one chose this life, and each one of us has a problem that we carry. The world has too much hate, and so little to love. Everything changes, and nothing stays. I want to walk through life with love, knowing that one day I would still bleed. I want to scream, cry, jump — feel everything strongly even if it hurts because that's the only way you'll open up to life. I want to be the main character, wash my dishes to a soundtrack, be my own audience and critic — one that watches me fail and make mistakes yet takes the judgement and loathing out of it and replace them with understanding, and the desire to improve. I want to reinvent myself, build a crazy wardrobe and move to a different city. I hope to meet people, have mundane conversations on the elevator and pass random smiles and compliments. I want to smell flowers as I pass by the park and run my fingers through grass. I wish to people watch and appreciate the randomness of life, laughing at bad jokes and catching puns and lame pop culture references. Songs to sing out loud, trains to catch and books to seek refuge in. Museums to visit, wonders to discover, math equations to solve. hugs from a person, tucking your hair in and handwritten note passed. Camera roll filled, solitude cherished and the promise of hope, maybe and someday given every sunrise.
I simply want to live
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