"I don't want to be alone. I need my family."
Bitch, you don't want to live in small apartment by yourself, baking by yourself, reading and listening to your favorite music in peace? Nobody's watching, judging, just silent. That's my fucking dream bro.
reading books in Latin, coffee stained papers, piles of books on the desk, spilled ink, wine bottles with a candle stick in it, cherry red lips, a very chaotic mind of new stanzas and creative work. Grecian artwork and statues that crumbled over time. revlon lipsticks and dior blush.
each day i must leave the sweet, warm, tender embrace of my bed and venture into a cold, uncaring world that hates me being toasty warm and wants me to suffer for sins i have not yet committed
Henry Winter is so husband coded (I need to be institutionalized)
~If I were the last man on earth would I be more human or would I lose the rest of my humanity?~
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Idiot
Today I discovered that a couple of TSH characters were based on actual people Donna Tartt knew at Bennington College- amongst them were students Todd O'Neal and Matt Jacobsen, who were the inspiration for Henry and Bunny respectively.
Here's the source
To be human.
The coolness of hate turning warm under a tender touch.
Salty tears watering a dried up husk, soft hands soothing aching eyes.
Heart held devotion and tired bitter lies.
Life so fleeting, as swift as a bird. Moments that ground us to roots of this earth.
To be human is run fast and fall, but never to give up and to always laugh at that dizzying gall.
If I had wings I'd learn to swim, for this life is a cliffegde and I won't jump on a whim.
don’t you love when you’re casually reading a random poem and suddenly come across a line that burrows into your bones and becomes the definition of your heart for the next 17 years
why did we as a society stop putting gargoyles on everything. what fucking loser looked at a building and was like no actually this doesn’t need a horrid little creacher
surely this fun coffee drink will save me from my immeasurable exhaustion
Perhaps I romanticize this state of loneliness so much that it becomes too beautiful.
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