The saddest part of growing old is losing your friends.
Unknown (via chris-goods)

(via chrxsgxxds)

I meet you. I remember you. Who are you? You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. How could I know this city was tailor-made for love? How could I know you fit my body like a glove? I like you. How unlikely. I like you. How slow all of a sudden. How sweet. You cannot know. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. I have time. Please, devour me. Deform me to the point of ugliness. Why not you? Why not you in this city and in this night, so like other cities and other nights you can hardly tell the difference? I beg of you.
Marguerite Duras, Hiroshima Mon Amour  (via nicollecamille)

(via yunzi)

sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living

sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living

so with the one you’ve got you gotta be strong 

I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ.
Anais Nin
deus caritas est