Her weeping is not unlike that of a mother, and well beyond my understanding.

I wish I could hold her.

"I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity."

Sylvia Plath, ”Elm” (via sad-plath)

(Source: sad-plath, via lifeinpoetry)

"I despise the kind of book that tells you … how to make yourself happy! The first duty of philosophy is making you understand what deep shit you are in."

"He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves."

Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera (via fuckyeahexistentialism)