More Than Words

But soft,

chrisclifton:

what light through yonder window breaks. It is the east and Juliet is the sun.

heyjustlisten:

Are you sitting comfortably?

Then I’ll begin…

should put this on repeat forever. 

settadeipoetiestinti:

 If I profane with my unworthiest hand 

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

(Source: fearlessknightsandfairytales)

everythinglordoftherings:

aww gimli lego is so cute

(Source: paralyzing, via me-and-my-self-esteem)

If you wish to see its grand architect, look to your left.

(via sociopath-in-a-sweatervest)

(via kayable)

(Source: kelseyscollections, via oibek)

"When you read to a child, when you put a book in a child’s hands, you are bringing that child news of the infinitely varied nature of life. You are an awakener."

Paula Fox (via booksandnerds)

(via booklover)

not as a general rule, no but if i do catch a whiff of something pleasant i’m not afraid of burying my nose in it to inhale it deeper (there was this lovely smelling book at kino the other day… hardcover LOL) 

(Source: burning-soul, via flimsybubble)

(via waltdisneymoments)

nursejoey:

like honestly if we follow each other i expect to be allowed to sleep on your floor whenever i’m in your city

(via acciomrdarcy)

(Source: thoughtful-words)

"

“Love.

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer
Remember your hands; how did your lips
Feel on mine?

Because of you, I love the white statues
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
Have neither voice nor sight.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
My vague memory of you. I live with pain
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
Make to me an irreperable harm.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
Vines on melancholy walls.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to
Glimpse you in every window.

Because of you, the heady perfumes of
Summer pain me; because of you, I again
Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:
Shooting stars, falling objects.”

Pablo Neruda  (via ihavelovedyousolong)

(Source: , via ihavelovedyousolong)