A Man's Heart Is A Wretched, Wretched Thing. It Isn't Like A Mother's Womb. It Won't Bleed. It Won't

A man's heart is a wretched, wretched thing. It isn't like a mother's womb. It won't bleed. It won't stretch to make room for you.

- A thousand splendid suns.

damn.

And a very affectionate fuck you to every fanfic author that made me cry. I love you guys

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race and the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering—these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life, but poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for.” ― N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society

@noshitsherlockidgaf

teens and their raging hormones and their urge to do everything except study ☕

"I knew exactly what phrase in the piece must have stirred him the first time, and each time I played it, I was sending it to him as a little gift, because it was really dedicated to him, as a token of something very beautiful in me that would take no genius to figure out and that urged me to throw in an extended cadenza. Just for him. We were- and he must have recognised the signs long before I did- flirting."

- Call me by your name.

writing with fountain pen was truly an era.