"I had just taken to reading. I had just discovered the art of leaving my body to sit impassive in a crumpled up attitude in a chair or sofa, while I wandered over the hills and far away in novel company and new scenes… My world began to expand very rapidly,… the reading habit had got me securely."
— H. G. Wells (via amandaonwriting)
"I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2 a.m., gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes."
— Anna Peters. (via citrone-meringue)
(Source: hellanne)
"The world was a terrible place, cruel, pitiless, dark as a bad dream. Not a good place to live. Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness - and love. Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you security and friendship and didn’t ask anything in return; they never went away, never, not even when you treated them badly."
— Cornelia Funke (via monsieurleprince)
(Source: mycolorbook)
"Sometimes you have to give up on people. Everyone in your life is meant to be there, but it doesn’t mean they’re meant to stay."
— (via wordstoliveby85)
