This was in a photo-set and this was the only one I wanted so…
Now there’s green light in my eyes
And my lover on my mind
And I sing from the piano
Tear my yellow dress and
Cry and cry and cry
Over the love of you
Over the Love (via still-moving-on)
Do you ever wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it.
Daisy Buchanan, The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald)
ooh-la-la | via Tumblr on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/62293699/via/mariaoohlala
He had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself.
The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald (via ferveurfemme)
Do you ever feel that way?”
“Restless. As if you haven’t really met yourself yet. As is you’d passed yourself once in the fog, and your heart leapt - ‘Ah! There I Am! I’ve been missing that piece!’ But it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it.
Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing (via dulcetdecember)
The National, Pink Rabbits (via vrtoglavicazanosa)