You forget all of it anyway. First, you forget everything you learned - the...– Gabrielle Zevin (Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac)
Once I wounded him with so small a thorn I never thought his flesh would...– Sylvia Plath, from “To a Jilted Lover” (via awritersruminations)
Your head is a living forest full of song birds.– e.e. cummings (via trua)
“Where is she now?” “He.” “Well, where is he?” Ashes settled at the bottom of the ocean; drifting in the air; resting on the ground. In some nook in the chasms of my mind. “Nowhere.” Everywhere.
If you want to write, if you want to create, you must be the most sublime fool...– Ray Bradbury (via thechocolatebrigade)
My eyes make pictures when they are shut.– Samuel Coleridge (via buried-denmark; colettesaintyves)
The evolution of sense is, in a sense, the evolution of nonsense.– Vladimir Nabokov, Pnin