“At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, all we really want is to be close to somebody. So this thing where we all keep our distance and pretend not to care about each other, it’s usually a load of bull. So we pick and choose who we want to remain close to, and once we’ve chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. No matter how much we hurt them. The people that are still with you at the end of the day, those are the ones worth keeping. And sure, sometimes close can be too close. But sometimes, that invasion of personal space, it can be exactly what you need.”—Grey’s Anatomy
There’s a reason I said I’d be happy alone. It wasn’t ‘cause I thought I’d be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It’s easier to be alone, because what if you learn that you need love and you don’t have it? What if you like it and lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It’s like dying. The only difference is death ends. This? It could go on forever.
—Meredith Grey (Ellen Pompeo). “Unaccompanied Minor.” Grey’s Anatomy. 2011. (via difficile-iter)
Sometimes we forget that children have just arrived on the earth. They are a little like aliens, coming into beings as bundles of energy and pure potential, here on some exploratory mission and they are just trying to learn what it means to be human.
—David, Martian Child (2007)
(Source: riskampret)
Let's-Drift-Away: “The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things...
“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most…
I need to be casual but not too casual. Dressy but not too dressy. I need him to think I just threw on the first thing I found and that I’m not taking this too seriously or overthinking it or even that I was thinking about it at all. Because I’m not. I’m totally not thinking about him, and I don’t want him to think I was thinking about him, but I don’t want him to think that I’m not thinking about him, because clearly he thought about me enough to ask me out and it would be mean not to be thinking about him at all, so I need just the right amount of thinking, and I’m not sure if that means boots and a skirt or skinny jeans and ballet flats. Help!
—Gemma Halliday, Social Suicide (via d4untless)
love is, after all, a superior kind of curiosity, an appetite for the unknown that makes you bare your breast and plunge headfirst into the storm.
—gustave flaubert (via kanzamaan)
(Source: wonderlandreflected, via thetearsoftheshadows)
I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?
—Sylvia Plath (via nonsichiudeunabissoconaria)
(via kickerlight)
(Source: kerstinmadeinchinaa, via prettylitleworld)
