July 2012
“I like you. How unlikely. I like you. How slow all of a sudden. How sweet. You cannot know. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. I have time. Please, devour me. Deform me to the point of ugliness. Why not you?”
—Marguerite Duras, Hiroshima mon amour (via weepling)
June 2012
“If memories are pain, fiction is anesthesia.”
—Thomas C. Schelling (via audreylostinparis)
Listen
Tender is the Night, Chapter VIII [excerpt] — F. Scott Fitzgerald