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.
430 notes
·
View notes
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights
26K notes
·
View notes
William James Moriarty
Close up 🤧
*It was inspired by some picture I found on Pinterest but I can’t find it again I’ll try to credit it once I find it *
349 notes
·
View notes
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
[text ID: And so it seems I must always write you letters that I can never send.]
26K notes
·
View notes