typicalabdullah:

The sound of rain

On rooftop and windowpane

Is the universe applauding

Your decision to remain in bed.

woolfdaily:

“How nice it is of me to be writing to you, when you’re not writing to me.”

— Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West c. July 1927

watchoutforintellect:

“I hunger to commit the act of touch.”

— Margaret Atwood, from The Handmaid’s Tale

theinbetweenling:

“In my favorite books, it’s never quite the ending I want. There’s always a price to be paid. The ones that speak to me are those whose final pages admit there is no going back. That every good thing must end. That every bad thing does too, that everything does.”

— Nora Stephens, Book Lovers, Emily Henry

mezzzanine-deactivated20230706:

i love her, and that’s the beginning and end of everything.

f. scott fitzgerald, from dear scott, dearest zelda: the love letters of f. scott and zelda fitzgerald

I love you, Chloe. And it’s okay if you don’t know what it means to be loved by someone, let alone love someone else because I promise to love you enough for the two of us. To love you every day to make up for everyone else who failed miserably.

typicalabdullah:

The sound of rain

On rooftop and windowpane

Is the universe applauding

Your decision to remain in bed.

woolfdaily:

“How nice it is of me to be writing to you, when you’re not writing to me.”

— Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West c. July 1927

watchoutforintellect:

“I hunger to commit the act of touch.”

— Margaret Atwood, from The Handmaid’s Tale

theinbetweenling:

“In my favorite books, it’s never quite the ending I want. There’s always a price to be paid. The ones that speak to me are those whose final pages admit there is no going back. That every good thing must end. That every bad thing does too, that everything does.”

— Nora Stephens, Book Lovers, Emily Henry

mezzzanine-deactivated20230706:

i love her, and that’s the beginning and end of everything.

f. scott fitzgerald, from dear scott, dearest zelda: the love letters of f. scott and zelda fitzgerald

I love you, Chloe. And it’s okay if you don’t know what it means to be loved by someone, let alone love someone else because I promise to love you enough for the two of us. To love you every day to make up for everyone else who failed miserably.