problem loading posts

There are times when you don’t know yourself. There are times when you don’t want to know yourself. There are times when you want to be what you have never allowed yourself to be before.

Aidan Chambers, This is All: The Pillow Book of Cordelia Kenn (via larmoyante)

(via necromanctic)

And the night smells like snow.
Walking home for a moment
you almost believe you could start again.
And an intense love rushes to your heart,
and hope. It’s unendurable, unendurable.


Franz Wright, closing lines to “Night Walk” from God’s Silence (Alfred A. Knopf, 2006)

(via alunaes)