I’m an adult, but not like a real adult

anyone between the ages of 18 and 25 (via prettyboystyles)


And here is what we call a textbook defintion of puppydog eyes.

(Source: hoppusfarm)

(Source: forgottenships)

(Source: aseaofquotes)

(Source: scifuck)

Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.

Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own (via observando)

You can’t live your life for other people. You’ve got to do what’s right for you, even if it hurts some people you love.

Nicholas SparksThe Notebook (via sherleck)

(Source: feellng)

(Source: maybeefunke)

I looked at everyone and wondered where they came from, and who they missed, and what they were sorry for.

Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (via razairazerci)

(Source: kushandwizdom)

(Source: dailydoseofstuf)



I don’t know what I am, but it claws and clutches at me as if I am worth reaching.

Richard Krause, from Epigrams (via adderalldust)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion)