Someone: You're so dramatic!
Me, with a rose between my lips, throwing glitter around, dressed in evening wear during the day, draping myself across a piano: I have no idea what you're talking about
ginger // the front bottoms
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Somewhere, far down, there was an itch in his heart, but he made it a point not to scratch it. He was afraid of what might come leaking out.
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief (via fleurdelecours)