I don’t think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love. — (via chuckhansen)
hermannivalo:

and the siren sighs it’s song.
Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence. —

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince  (via weepling)

More here guy$

(via shootly)

cosima-niehaus-feels:

THE WAY DELPHINE LOOKS AT HER.