I miss you.
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Anaïs Nin, in a diary entry dated August 22 1920 featured in The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1920-1923
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Clarice Lispector, from "The Servant" in The Complete Stories
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Her brown eyes were untranslatable, at odds with her whole face. As independent as if they’d been planted in the flesh of an arm, and were peering at us from there— open, moist. She was made entirely of a sweetness bordering on tears.
Clarice Lispector, The Complete Stories
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ITS MY BIRTHDAY
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“i want a childish/sensitive girl” until she doesn’t know how to communicate correctly, goes silent when she’s upset, always thinks you’re upset with her, scared to have sex, cries almost every day, thinks you’ll leave her for someone more mature, acts like a child when shes with you, always thinks she’s too immature for you, has issues with eating because she knows you like tiny girls and she doesn’t feel small enough, and overthinks everything
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“Don’t forget to love her. The little girl you used to be. Perhaps She lies within you. Untucked. Sleeping peacefully.”
— “Nurture.” By Kiana Llanos (via arabarabarab)
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i love to believe that fairies curl my hair while i sleep at night
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So many broken-hearted people have got to hear the birds sing, and see all the little flowers grow,
Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Lavinia N. Dickinson written c. April 1860
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“She didn’t love easily, it took a lot for her to fall. But when she loved it was with such an intensity it could be felt from a mile away. It shook the earth and made the ocean roar. And when he felt it, it made him question if he’d ever known love at all.”
— S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #282
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in the land of gods and monsters i was an angel
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