“Not remembering my first childhood home made up for the times I considered it to be better than the second”— Where Were You Born?, E.M.F. (via we-thestories)
(via we-thestories)
The man of her dreams is a girl.
Julie Anne Peters, Keeping You a Secret
(via anadearmas)
Has your imagination ever brought you someplace so ancient, so golden and luxurious, that you never wanted to return to reality?
No – she breathes. It’s taken me to ruins, cities where ghosts reside and dried blood clings to dead grass. I can still smell the fumes of fire, of war. She frowns at me and grabs my hand.
I’ve been there many times. Even in my nightly dreams. Promise me you’ll never set foot there.
I smile, wistful, saddened.
Too late.
Yasmin Ali (via whatbooksaremadeof)
It was a strange winter and nothing and everything happened.
Gertrude Stein, from The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas (Harcourt, 1933)
(via lovelydisarray)
