A Soul With No Footprint

The more I threw away, the more I found.
—Don DeLillo, White Noise (via likeafieldmouse)

If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.
—Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore (via veneficos)

(Source: larmoyante)

(Source: natchis)


Elias Canetti

(Source: typeverything)

You live beside me, like me:
as a stone
in the sunken cheek of night.

Oh this slope, my love,
where we tumble incessantly,
from rivulet to rivulet.
Rounder, as time goes by.
More similar. Stranger.

And oh this drunken eye
that wanders around here the way we do
and sometimes, astonished,
sees us as one.

Paul Celan, The Slope (via justanotherline)

(Source: whiteblackgrey)

(Source: cuntingtonrosie)

It is allowed to invent new verbs?
I want to create one for you: I sky you, so that my wings may stretch out enormously, to love you without boundaries.
—Frida Kahlo, from Passionate Letters, Abscondita (2002)

(Source: volaream)

(Source: aquaticwonder)

(Source: noblette)

(Source: trxpgod214)