Nostalgic Nihilism.

She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood.
She only looked away for a moment, and the mask slipped, and you fell. All your tomorrows start here.

— Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: whyallcaps.us, via thatkindofwoman)

It’s okay," she replied. “I know what we are and I know what we’re not.

— Lang Leav

My God, a moment of bliss.
Why, isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime?

Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights (via heresay)

(via heresay)