One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one’s death, one dies one’s life.
— Jean-Paul Sartre
Posted January 26, 2012 at 7:50pm
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
— Pablo Neruda
(Source: shirlzilla)
A sleeping youth cloaked in light, who opened his eyes with a smile of recognition for someone who had never been a stranger.
— Patti Smith, from Just Kids
(Source: the-final-sentence)
Posted January 10, 2012 at 8:02pm










