warm orange windows and blue night in the background save me. save me warm orange windows and blue night
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D. H. Lawrence, from his novel titled "Lady Chatterley's Lover," published in 1928
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hell itself is not adequate enough for him
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one of my greatest pet peeves in fiction, and it is truly stupid I know, is that no one seems to understand how genuinely hard it is to kill someone via stabbing. stab wounds have a mortality rate of like 5%. especially abdominal stabbing. tv shows and movies show dudes getting stabbed one time in the lower abdomen with a tiny knife and then they fall over. like what did he die of precisely. that man died of Small Knife
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my easily jumpscared gf has her back to the door in our new place and every time i need to announce myself like im an angel of god
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always get whiplash seeing old birth dates of people that go like 1880-1965 like what do u mean those aren't two whole centuries apart. what.
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