"Maybe I was destined to forever fall in love with people I couldn’t have. Maybe there’s a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for me to find them. Waiting to make me feel the same impossibility over and over again."
- Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I’m Home (via hauntedhallways)
(Source: larmoyante, via pinuppussycat)
"The Poet makes himself into a seer by a long, involved, and logical derangement of all the senses. Every kind of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself; he exhausts every possible poison so that only essence remains."
- Arthur Rimbaud (via alanreedwrite)
"Satan, you clown, you want to dissolve me with your charms. Well, I want it. I want it! Stab me with a pitchfork, sprinkle me with fire!"
- Rimbaud, A Season in Hell (via nothatsnotdialectical)