Me: But I have about fifty books at home I haven't read, there's no reason for me to buy these.
My brain: Okay, but consider this: more books.
It’s true, I am afraid of dying. I am afraid of the world moving forward without me, of my absence going unnoticed, or worse, being some natural force propelling life on. Is it selfish? Am I such a bad person for dreaming of a world that ends when I do? I don’t mean the world ending with respect to me, but every set of eyes closing with mine.
|—||Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated (via 13neighbors)|
best of “she wears short skirts”
Imperfections are attractive when their owners are happy with them.
|—||Augusten Burroughs, This Is How: Surviving What You Think You Can’t (via perfect)|
A strong independent dog who don’t need no man
Why does everyone act like takin selfies is a new thing as if myspace never happened