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  • 23 hours ago
  • 257

I feel so intensely the delights of shutting oneself up in a little world of one’s own, with pictures and music and everything beautiful.

Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out (via introspectivepoet)
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  • 2 days ago
  • 129

I crave adventure, attention, and you.

6 word story (via l-echappee-belle)
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  • #dippadaidaa #kusessa ollaan
  • 2 days ago
  • 177142

But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

James Joyce, Dubliners (via introspectivepoet)
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  • 2 days ago
  • 155

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all; there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.

Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934 (via introspectivepoet)
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  • 2 days ago
  • 120

I remember one morning getting up at dawn, there was such a sense of possibility. You know, that feeling? And I remember thinking to myself this is the beginning of happiness. This is where it starts. And of course there will always be more. It never occurred to me it wasn’t the beginning. It was happiness. It was the moment. Right then.

The Hours (2002)
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  • 3 days ago
  • 223

Take me with you. I want a doomed love. I want streets at night, wind and rain, no one wondering where I am.

Michael Cunningham, The Hours (via introspectivepoet)
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  • 3 days ago
  • 260

When a man walks into a room, he brings his whole life with him. He has a million reasons for being anywhere, just ask him. If you listen, he’ll tell you how he got there. How he forgot where he was going, and that he woke up. If you listen, he’ll tell you about the time he thought he was an angel or dreamt of being perfect. And then he’ll smile with wisdom, content that he realized the world isn’t perfect. We’re flawed, because we want so much more. We’re ruined, because we get these things, and wish for what we had.

Don Draper, Mad Men, Season 4, Episode 8 (via introspectivepoet)
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  • 3 days ago
  • 118

I was broke, fearless, with nothing to lose. And my dream, more than anything, was to become anyone else other than who I was.

Sydney Prosser, American Hustle (via introspectivepoet)
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  • 3 days ago
  • 142

hungarian:

bon jovi? mauvais jovi? c’est un mystère

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  • #no it is not #the answer is very clear
  • 1 week ago
  • 26120
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  • 1 week ago
  • 55436

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.

Jack Kerouac, On the Road (via introspectivepoet)
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  • 1 week ago
  • 1184

krystalrneth:

i don;t even know why i stay up late all i do is find new ways to hate myself

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  • 1 week ago
  • 132800
  • Me:you can talk to me whenever you feel bad! I'll always be there for you
  • Me:*bottles up problems* *doesnt talk about it with anyone* *lays in bed instead of trying to solve my own problems*
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  • 1 week ago
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  • 1 week ago
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