The worth of a book is to be measured by what you can carry away from it.
— James Bryce. (via prettybooks)
smoldering.
she hid a smile
on her lips
that could light up
cigarettes
without a match.
Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night.
— Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke (via gatherlove)
