adulthood is just an endless stream of phone calls you don’t want to make but have to

(via rain-force)

102,107 notes

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

-Anaïs Nin (via hqlines)

288 notes

122,773 notes


"i’m dreaming of a white christmas" i sing to myself in the 30 degree australian heat

(via arrystyles)

171,623 notes