And all this time she was torn by wild desires, by rage, by hatred. The trim folds of her dress hid a heart in turmoil, and her reticent lips told nothing of the storm.
Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary (via introspectivepoet)
We fought, holy shit we fought but damn, we loved. We loved more than anything; I think that makes all the fighting okay; we fought because we cared. Our arguments were filled with passion and this strange fucked-up way of saying ‘I love you.’
something my ex once said to me that I think about a lot (via phyerfly)
I won’t beg someone to love me. I learned long ago that there is no use in hopeless pleas of trying to make someone stay. I am too good to chase someone who does not know my worth and I am too wild to keep waiting for someone who doesn’t acknowledge my value. I want to be loved unconditionally. I shouldn’t have to fight so hard for it. I do not have the time to prove to someone that I am worth it. I shouldn’t have to prove any of that; I am worth more than that.
This means everything (via clumsiest)
There’s something different about you. I don’t know what it is, but it makes me want to change every bad thing about myself.
K.A. Robinson, Torn (via hefuckin)