I have this vision: That I would finally come and find you. Scattered pieces of distance would not stand in my way. Not needing words; the barest of glimpses would suffice for you and me.
Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena (via thatkindofwoman)
I will be wild. I will be brutal. I will encircle you and conquer you. I will be more powerful than your boats and your swords and your blood lust. I will be inevitable.
Iphigenia, from A Memory of Wind by Rachel Swirsky. (via antonsokolov)
I have sea foam in my veins, I understand the language of waves.
Jean Cocteau; Testament of Orpheus (via owls-love-tea)
I repeat your name, each time different,
into sand, into moonlight.
Far off, the lake crumbles at its edges,
the sky holds out its arms.
Anne Michaels, “Turning Twenty-Three,” The Weight of Oranges (via antonsokolov)
Will you come with me to the mountains? It will hurt at first, until your feet are hardened. Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. But will you come?
C.S. Lewis (via house-of-romanov)