The page is long, blank, and full of truth. When I am through with it, it shall probably be long, full, and empty with words.
— Jack Kerouac (via vanished)
unless you are the mongols
they are the exception
It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.
— The Fault in our Stars (John Green)
In many ways I’ve picked up traits of a person I never thought I would become.
A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up towards the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-coloured rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (via aventre)
