Women of Amphissa by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, 1887.
(via wehadnoidea)❝ 297 Notes / Thu Dec 5th, 2013 ❞ reblog
I hate the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car,
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots
and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
it even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you’re always right,
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you’re not around,
and the fact that you didn’t call.
But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,
not even close…
not even a little bit…
not even at all." ❝ / Wed Dec 4th, 2013 ❞ reblog
watching two really opinionated people have an argument
(via thatsovivian)❝ 71830 Notes / Wed Dec 4th, 2013 ❞ reblog
❝ 186657 Notes / Tue Dec 3rd, 2013 ❞ reblog
Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.
And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes
you cannot even breathe deeply, and
the night sky is no home, and
you have cried yourself to sleep enough times
that you are down to your last two percent, but
nothing is infinite,
not even loss.
You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day
you are going to find yourself again.