Book are finite, sexual encounters are finite, but the desire to read and to fuck is infinite; it surpasses our own deaths, our fears, our hopes for peace.
Roberto Bolaño, Literature + Illness = Illness (via hellanne)
Some things, once you’ve loved them, become yours forever. And if you try to let them go, they only circle back and return to you. They become a part of who you are, or they destroy you.
Kill Your Darlings (2013)
The evil of the world is made possible by nothing but the sanction you give it.
John Galt
sleeping by myself
curled up like a question mark
come and answer me

Haiku, Eliza Kane   (via mercurieux)