- Something you wore - gorgeous hand woven scarf from my brother and future sister in law.
— Edmund Dantes (via orientaltiger)
(Source: orientaltiger, via bookspaperscissors)
This is my winter song to you. The storm is coming soon, it rolls in from the sea
My voice; a beacon in the night. My words will be your light, to carry you to me.
Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love
They say that things just cannot grow beneath the winter snow, or so I have been told.
They say were buried far, just like a distant star I simply cannot hold.
Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive?
This is my winter song. December never felt so wrong, cause you’re not where you belong; inside my arms.
I still believe in summer days. The seasons always change and life will find a way.
I’ll be your harvester of light and send it out tonight so we can start again.
Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive?
This is my winter song. December never felt so wrong, cause you’re not where you belong; inside my arms.
This is my winter song to you. The storm is coming soon it rolls in from the sea.
My love a beacon in the night. My words will be your light to carry you to me.
Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive? Is love alive?
— Stephen Fry
(Source: twitter.com)
— Rainer Maria Rilke
tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?
Being carried up the front steps by my dad after I fell to the bottom and busted my mouth.