The weather varies between heavy fog and pale sunshine; My thoughts follow the exact same process.
— Virginia Woolf, 21 April 1918 (via endlessdreamingg)
I am jealous of your bedsheets — the ones you wrap yourself in over and over when you are unreasonably cold for the season. I am jealous of the people who get to pass by you in the metro and who will never know your name. They don’t know that they are lucky, that their shoulders touch someone wonderful.
the guy in front of me walked into a post and i was so busy laughing that i walked into the same post
we’re going for coffee tomorrow morning
Nothing can wear you out like caring about people.
— That Was Then, This Is Now (S.E. Hinton)