I Can Be Trusted On A Nature Walk I Promise. I Promise I Will Stay On The Trail And Will Not Run Off

This will always stay an imagination 😔

Imagine being subject of someone's poetry ♡

With The Secret History, I think the first time you read it, you shouldn’t analysis it at all. You need to truly be blinded by the beauty and characters before you start to read into it and understand the criticism.

That being said, I think people who completely ignore the messages being sent by that book are missing out entirely as the blindness you first feel only becomes significant once you realise that Tartt completely manipulated you into becoming just like Richard.

I would love to read all of their POVs.

I would KILL to read TSH from Bunny’s POV. It would make for the perfect Greek tragedy and a killer thriller. Imagine reading his descent into insanity and paranoia. Imagine Italy from his perspective; his secret, almost sinful confessions to Julian; his pillow talks with Marion. I want to feel Henry’s betrayal and Bunny’s unease. I would eat that shit UP

“she ruined an innocent guy’s life!” yes, but have you considered that she was very sad about it afterwards? have you considered that i love her?

"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot explain it to myself."

- Franz Kafka

we're all mad here

- Alice's adventures in wonderland

been thinking a lot about anticipatory grief lately. i love you so much that i know losing you will devastate me. i haven't lost you yet but i already miss you. we still have time, but it won't be enough. i think about what i would say at your funeral, and say some of it to you now cause i need you to know how loved you are before you go. you will go where i cannot follow, but you will never really leave me. it won't make it hurt less but it is a part of healing somehow.

The true blasphemy of literature is the romanticization of romance. They make it beautiful—all soft words, and elegant lines—and enchanting, with magic sparkling in the margins.

And you can feel it in the depths of your soul, an unexplored ocean of laughter and tears and dreams all melded together.

The yearning of a kiss that brushes against the steady and so so warm pulsing beat of life—against the smooth skin of a lovers neck. The desperation to touch another being and feel that they’re alive, right there next to you—right there, and never leaving.

To love and be loved is a jewel among treasures and all that we each seek—all that we each desire.

It burns and it burns and it burns.

“I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

“Come home and break my heart, if you must.”

“Occasionally, Fate pulls itself together again and Time is always waiting.”

“And perhaps it is the greatest grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.”

“By you, I am forever undone.”

“One word from you shall silence me forever.”

“A heart’s a heavy burden.”

“My sweet nemesis.”

“If you have to go, you know I will go with you.”

and then?

and then.

The book is over.

And you remember that love like that doesn't exist.

Not in the real world.

And all you can do is cry.

Characters are obliged to act according to the laws of the world in which they live. In other words, the narrator is the prisoner of his own premises.

- Umberto Eco