But I'm not good with words
and also what am I doing here, I should be somewhere, looking across the sea, having a walk in the forest and climbing rocks but instead I'm here reblogging photographs I wish I'd taken, words I wish I wrote, seeing people go somewhere, wishing, wishing, wishing that I'm the one going places.
…nostalgia in reverse, the longing for yet another strange land, grew especially strong in spring.
written by Vladimir Nabokov, “Mary” (via litverve)
on a scale from 1 to sansa stark, how much do you regret your childhood crush
I have observed that male writers tend to get asked what they think and women what they feel. In my experience…all of the questions coming at [women writers] from interviewers tend to be about how lucky they are to be where they are – about luck and identity and how the idea struck them. The interviews much more seldom engage with the woman as a serious thinker, a philosopher, as a person with preoccupations that are going to sustain them for their lifetime.
written by Eleanor Catton (via unicornology)
Words can’t describe how beautiful this is.
And it’s hard to hate someone once you understand them.
written by Lucy Christopher, Stolen: A Letter to My Captor (via perfect)