Julianunderwood - Perdidit In Ignota Somnium

it's the fantastic drowse, of the afternoon sundays.

Why can’t people just sit and read books and be nice to each other?

David Baldacci, The Camel Club (via wordsnquotes)

D a r k    A c a d e m i a :   T h e  A r t s 

to be written in ink is to become immortal.

eira s. → etched into history (via ardentleys)

i personally love to over analyze everything and suffer

fuck literary gatekeeping, read whatever you want.

“I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again —”

— Georgia O’Keeffe, in a letter to Russel Vernon Hunter, from Georgia O’Keeffe: Art and Letters (via luthienne)

11.22.63

I don’t wanna be that way