i’m not the kind of fool
who’s gonna sit and sing to you
about stars, girl
but last night i looked up into
the dark half of the blue
and they’d gone backwards
In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.
― Franz Kafka, Letters To Milena (via opus-nocturne)
I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while.
― Haruki Murakami (via psych-facts)