Reblogged from whispsofinvisibleme
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Reblogged from tearingdownthestarss
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Reblogged from only-remains
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Reblogged from the-best-side-of-life
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Santorini, Greece
Reblogged from from-now-till-foreverbaby
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Reblogged from whispsofinvisibleme
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Do they still call it infatuation? That magic ax that chops away the world in one blow, leaving only the couple standing there trembling? Whatever they call it, it leaps over anything, takes the biggest chair, the largest slice, rules the ground wherever it walks, from a mansion to a swamp, and its selfishness is its beauty…. People with no imagination feed it with sex — the clown of love. They don’t know the real kinds, the better kinds, where losses are cut and everybody benefits. It takes a certain intelligence to love like that — softly, without props. By Toni Morrison
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Veranda
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your words are marked on my skin By Ingrid Michaelson (via whatabouthayley)
Reblogged from whispsofinvisibleme
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She understood the risks, the limits, the possible consequences, and she was willing to accept all of that in return for the sheer joy of being with him. One night with him…one hundred… whatever fate allowed her, she would take. By Lisa Kleypas, Sudddenly You (via litvibes)
Reblogged from whispsofinvisibleme
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Reblogged from whispsofinvisibleme
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