#yes

There is something so comforting about sitting at libraries late at night with a candle, while you gulp the pages of a book with a hungry fervour. You are so lost in a different world, for a while nothing matters except for the pains of your character and you don't even realise it's dawn. You haven't moved an inch, your back aches, your eyelids are drooping, but you feel this contentment in your chest, and god I would give anything to bring that feeling back.

Oh the intimacy of eye contact, it's like looking right into the depths of their soul. An embrace like no other, I think that's why sometimes we can't maintain it for too long because it's the most vulnerable we could be. It's deeper than any intimacy physical contact could bring you.

Attacked.

“The danger with the eloquent poetess is that she might turn herself into a beautiful disaster.”

—

the tips of my fingers grazing over infinite titles.

i will never understand people who don’t like history. how can you not be entranced by something so intertwined in every step you take and everything you set your eyes on? how can you not love something that explains everything from the ground you walk on to the clothes you wear and the tongue you speak? how can you not adore something that tells the tale of every human who ever walked the earth? how can you not like something so deeply human?

can’t believe there’s going to be a new generation of pjo fans who automatically picture walker scobell when they think of percy jackson and not a hodgepodge of viria and burdge’s fanart. does that make me old

Melt in my mouth like poetry

kiss my tears ever so delicately

hold me close to your heart

caress me on those dark nights

cage me in your love like never before

oh darling I still need your love

I still need your love.

Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours

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