The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

  March 24, 2014 at 12:13am

(via theheart-knows-best-deactivated)

And you touched my heart with a thousand pleasures, but broke it into a million pieces.

  March 20, 2014 at 10:50am

(via hplyrikz)

  March 06, 2014 at 10:49pm


  March 06, 2014 at 09:59pm

Yes, that’s the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn’t hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.

  February 24, 2014 at 12:58am

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”
Pablo Neruda

  February 19, 2014 at 09:23pm
  February 18, 2014 at 08:52pm
  February 16, 2014 at 03:13pm
  February 16, 2014 at 03:12pm
  January 27, 2014 at 11:54am
  January 27, 2014 at 11:51am
  December 26, 2013 at 02:08pm