matialonsorphoto:

normal
by matialonsor

matialonsorphoto:

normal

by matialonsor

A woman who hates you is playing the pianoforte.

You have five hundred a year. From who? Five hundred what? No one knows. No one cares. You have it. It’s yours. Every year. All five hundred of it.

A charming man attempts to flirt with you. This is terrible.

You are in a garden, and you are astonished.

The world is so much larger than I thought. I thought we went along paths—but it seems there are no paths. The going itself is the path.
C.S. Lewis, Perelandra (via pureblyss)
winterfellis:

by meanderingmouse on Flickr.

winterfellis:

by meanderingmouse on Flickr.

exam:

"Iceland" by Andrew Gallo

exam:

"Iceland" by Andrew Gallo

© STR-WRS