#tweegram (Taken with instagram)
— Edna St. Vincent Millay
Virginia Woolf’s suicide note to her husband Leonard before drowning herself.
On 28 March 1941, Virginia Woolf put on her overcoat, filled its pockets with stones, and walked into the River Ouse near her home and drowned herself. Her body was not found until 18 April 1941. Her husband buried her cremated remains under an elm in the garden of Monk’s House.
“West Virginia” In The Open Session
Dovremmo avere tutti qualcuno che ci abbracci fino a toglierci il fiato, che ci faccia dimenticare il perchè siamo tristi, che ci lasci addosso il suo profumo dopo averci stretto forte per farci passare la paura.
Everyone thinks the most painful kinds of love are the ones that got away. Or the ones that stay unrequited for years; one party falling, the other guarding. Or the ones that you can predict are never going to work out, but you try anyway. Or even the ones that tear you down and…
Well, let's say that since you were little, you always dreamed of getting a lion. And you wait, and you wait, and you wait, and you wait but the lion doesn't come. And along comes a giraffe. You can be alone, or you can be with the giraffe.
I'd wait for the lion.
That's why I worry about you.
XIII. The boy behind the gas station counter, he’s got eyes the kind of blue that grows insomniacs and a book behind his back the same way people carry weapons and things that kill. He looks at everything with the shame of a dreamer, and I want to tell him I understand. That on the worst of days…