It’s not the face, but the expressions on it. It’s not the voice, but what you say. It’s not how you look in that body, but the thing you do with it. You are beautiful.
Stephenie Meyer, The Host (via feellng)
I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as good as I give.
Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath (via feellng)
We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (via teenager90s)
I’ve heard it said that
When you can’t sleep, someone
Somewhere, is dreaming
So what does that mean
Are you exhausted because
You have not had any sleep
For as long as I’ve been dreaming?
And is it because
That I wake up at 2am,
Instead of sleeping I’m thinking about how you kissed the top of my head and whispered: “I’ve missed you.”
But I still don’t know where I stand or what it is I am to you.
I want to be something.
And everyone else I meet is nothing because they aren’t you. They don’t even compare.
So I either need to become something more than I am, or be reduced to nothing. Otherwise, no one else will stand a chance. I won’t stand a chance.
If you show someone something you’ve written, you give them a sharpened stake, lie down in your coffin, and say, ‘When you’re ready.’
David Mitchell, Black Swan Green (via feellng)