sometimes i look at random people on the train or walking down the street and wonder about their day or what they had for breakfast or where they grew up and if they’re having a good or a bad day and i wonder if people do the same to me
Maybe you’ll fall in love with me all over again.”
“Hell,” I said, “I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?”
“Yes. I want to ruin you.”
“Good,” I said. “That’s what I want too.
— Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (via blua)
I want to do with you what spring does with cherry trees.
— Pablo Neruda, from “Every Day You Play”, in Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, trans. W.S. Merwin (via violentlymelodic)
Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
— Homer, The Iliad (via violentlymelodic)
