I think I write best when I am sad. When I am sad, I write the truth.
that sometimes solitude is
one of the most beautiful things
on earth?” —Charles Bukowski (via woodlace)
My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you – I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again – my Life seems to stop there – I see no further. You have absorb’d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving – I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you … I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion – I have shudder’d at it – I shudder no more – I could be martyr’d for my Religion – Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you.
— John Keats to Fanny Brawne, 13 October 1819
White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second.” —Lewis Carrol