I, too, remember that feeling. You are caught between all that was and all that must be. You feel lost.
|—||Murakami, Haruki. Hard-Boiled Wonderland And The End Of The World. (via wordsnquotes)|
She tastes like nectar and salt. Nectar and salt and apples. Pollen and stars and hinges. She tastes like fairy tales. Swan maiden at midnight. Cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. She tastes like hope.
|—||Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke and Bone (via femme-ex-machina)|
An owl gets inside the house. The Owl Whisperer™ tries to get it back outside again. x