The kind of love letters I write are the ones you read in bed, stretched out under the sheets with one hand between your legs.
I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.
― Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait in Letters (via larmoyante)
The very essence of romance is uncertainty.
― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest and Other Plays (via observando)