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Moodboard for @torturedsoulsblog! :]

I believe that a morning should never describe a day. Of course, I don’t believe mornings listen to mortal pleas and reasoning, but I try to enact this rule myself. Yet, it is a morning’s nature to bleed into your perception of a day, tint it with sorrow or with beauty. The only times when I forbid myself from enforcing this rule is when my day is unknowingly stricken with a morning of perfect quiescence, an awake before the world has begun to turn. Those rare mornings can feel free to pour through the seams of time and stain the parchment of afternoons and evenings a beautiful shade of rose. I’m quite a hypocrite, I do know.

carpe noctem

HELLO, THIS

"Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood ".

George Orwell, 1984

- Sylvia Plath, from 'Ariel'

𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐦.𝐥. 𝐫𝐢𝐨

“𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮.”

To define is to limit, darling.

I never wish to be easily defined.

Hmmm maybe not Mr. Elton, but Mr. Knightley?

This very morning, my history professor picked up the book I was reading, looked me in the eye, and said “Don’t read Wuthering Heights.” He then proceeded to walk away and continue class.