Feed Me Books

Words are friends, not food

If I didn’t think, I’d be much happier; if I didn’t have any sex organs, I wouldn’t waver on the brink of nervous emotion and tears all the time.

—Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via viviling)

I don’t think they even heard me.

—Yukio Mishima’s last words, moments before committing ritual suicide, 1970 (via larmoyante)

(via chromophilic)

I don’t want anything from you, at all. I just want to be the person you choose to sit next to in a room full with all the people you have known.

—(via ohhhkat)

(Source: lieandsneak, via viviling)

This autumn-
why am I growing old?
bird disappearing among clouds.

—Matsuo Bashō (via observando)

But you power through the day anyways, regardless of the weight that holds you down. You make it to the finish line because you can and you will - because you have to.

I mean they don’t seem able to love us just the way we are. They don’t seem able to love us unless they can keep changing us a little bit. They love their reasons for loving us almost as much as they love us, and most of the time more.

—J.D. Salinger, Nine Stories (via larmoyante)

(via chromophilic)

You can’t measure time by days the way you measure money by dollars and cents, because dollars are all the same while every day is different and maybe every hour as well.

—Jorge Luis Borges (via augustuszeus)

(Source: likeafieldmouse, via fuckyeahexistentialism)