lovers whose bodies smell of each other
— T. S. Eliot, “A Dedication to My Wife” (via leopoldgursky)
Be you writer or reader, it is very pleasant to run away in a book.
— Jean Craighead George, from the preface of My Side of the Mountain (via excessivebookshelf)
In books I have traveled, not only to other worlds, but into my own.
— Anna Quindlen (How Reading Changed My Life)
If there was no New Orleans, America would just be a bunch of free people dying of boredom.
— Chris Rose, 1 Dead in Attic (via fuckyeahcajuns)
I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.
Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart  (via bitcheslovechivalry)