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Mary MacLane,I Await the Devil’s Coming  

(Source: larmoyante, via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

once said:

"I am not good. I am not virtuous. I am not sympathetic. I am not generous. I am merely and above all a creature of intense passionate feeling. I feel—everything. It is my genius. It burns me like fire."

Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera 

(Source: tumblr.lonequixote.com, via likeafieldmouse)

once said:

"He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves."

Sylvia Plath, Three Women: A Poem for Three Voices 

(Source: seabois, via burrito-princess)

once said:

"I am accused. I dream of massacres.
I am a garden of black and red agonies. I drink them,
Hating myself, hating and fearing. And now the
world conceives
Its end and runs toward it, arms held out in love.
"

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wandrlust:

Future Islands — Seasons (Waiting On You)