“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever.” —Alfred Lord Tennyson (via wandering-eyes)
Your blog is truley beautiful and classy. It is like a dream.
thank you, love. i like to have a place to store my fleeting thoughts x
“She was wearing a pair of my pajamas with the sleeves rolled up. When she laughed I wanted her again. A minute later she asked me if I loved her. I told her it didn’t mean anything but that I didn’t think so. She looked sad.” —Albert Camus, “The Stranger” (via hymnal)
“I suppose this was the first time I had ever felt an urge not to be. Never an urge to die, far less and urge to put and end to myself - simply and urge not to be. This disgusting, hostile and unlovely world was not made for me, not I for it. It was alien to me and I to it.” —Stephen Fry - Moab is my Washpot (via frogsandcrowns)
“All my life I’ve wanted to be the kid who gets to cross over into the magical kingdom. I devoured those books by C.S. Lewis and William Dunthorn, Ellen Wentworth, Susan Cooper, and Alan Garner. When I could get them from the library, I read them out of order as I found them, and then in order, and then reread them all again, many times over. Because even when I was a child I knew it wasn’t simply escape that lay on the far side of the borders of fairyland. Instinctively I knew crossing over would mean more than fleeing the constant terror and shame that was mine at that time of my life. There was a knowledge – an understanding hidden in the marrow of my bones that only I can access ― telling me that by crossing over, I’d be coming home. That’s the reason I’ve yearned so desperately to experience the wonder, the mystery, the beauty of that world beyond the World As It Is. It’s because I know that somewhere across the border there’s a place for me. A place of safety and strength and learning, where I can become who I’m supposed to be. I’ve tried forever to be that person here, but whatever I manage to accomplish in the World As It Is only seems to be an echo of what I could be in that other place that lies hidden somewhere beyond the borders.” —Charles de Lint (via clavicola)