I just want to let you know that you're both a treat and a treasure ♥

– Charlotte.

Take a shower, wash off the day. 

Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. 

Lie down and close your eyes. Notice the silence. 

Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. 

You made it, after all. You made it, another day. 

And you can make it one more. 

You’re doing just fine. 

Please.

So… you’re saying that Ray is that one person who finally recognizes 

Felicity’s capacities and intelligence? Please.

Do not chase another human being.

“Do not chase another human being. Instead, chase your curiosity. Chase your development and your goals. Chase your passion. Strive to work for something bigger than yourself, and instead of trying to convince someone that you fit within their world, strive to build your own.”

My Sailor Bold

Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray,

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay,

Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seem'd to be in pain,

Saying, William, when you go, I fear you will ne'er return again.

His hair it does in ringlets hang, his eyes as black as soles,

My happiness attend him wherever he goes,

From Tower Hill, down to Blackwall, I will wander, weep and moan,

All for my jolly sailor bold, until he does return.

My father is a merchant — the truth I will now tell,

And in great London City in opulence doth dwell,

His fortune doth exceed ₤300,000 in gold,

And he frowns upon his daughter, 'cause she loves a sailor bold.

A fig for his riches, his merchandize, and gold,

True love is grafted in my heart; give me my sailor bold:

Should he return in poverty, from o'er the ocean far,

To my tender bosom, I'll fondly press my jolly tar.

My sailor is as smiling as the pleasant month of May,

And oft we have wandered through Ratcliffe Highway,

Where many a pretty blooming girl we happy did behold,

Reclining on the bosom of her jolly sailor bold.

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea,

While up aloft, in storm or gale, from me his absence mourn,

And firmly pray, arrive the day, he home will safe return.

My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair,

And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year,

My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,

There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold.

to be strong

“Some people think that to be strong is to never feel pain. In reality the strongest people are the ones who feel it, understand it, accept and learn from it.”

— midnight thoughts

“I wonder if you still think about me. my lips on yours, my hands through your hair. I wonder if you wake up in the middle of the night with my name on your tongue. I wonder if you still think about me. About what we had and could’ve had, 'cos baby we could’ve had everything.”

M/A

— (NJ.) // tired eyes & weary soul but still a beating heart #2

I want to be your passions. Include your frustrations when things don’t go as planned, and you run your hand through your hair or you bite your bottom lip excessively or you make that groaning sound from your throat. Include your fascinations when epiphanies hit you and your eyes sparkle like Christmas lights, or when you discover new things and your lips curve in that half-upturned way, halfway between a smile and a smirk. I want to be the first sip of coffee or the languid way you put on clothes when you haven’t had your coffee yet. I want to be the refreshing moments, like when you just got out of your shower. Or when you laid on your bed after a long, tiring day and you feel the knots on your back unravel. Or when you put on clothes freshly taken out of the dryer. Or when you learn something new, something good, something special, about yourself. I want to be the scent that takes you back to your childhood days when your mom would kiss your bruised knees, or when your dad would lift you up on his shoulders because you were the ruler and the world was for your conquest. I want to be a remembrance of family Saturday brunch, of the first day in kindergarten and the excitement in your eyes, of playground swings, and of making blanket forts with friends. I want to be your favorite song. Oh I wonder what it would be like to be the melody that soothes you. The music that creates slow dances in your heart and spins your soul into circles. Maybe I just want to be any song that knows your heart thoroughly and leaves imprints of memories in its wake.

i love the way she puts it xD

— Haley Mae

tell me words aren’t powerful
go ahead
I dare you
I dare you to tell me that
words don’t make you feel things
tell me you don’t feel anything when your father told you you’re worthless
tell me that
tell me that you have no emotion
because darling
you ignorant fuck
I want to fix you
I don’t know what it is in me
that wants to fix everyone
I want to tell people what they are worth
i want to make them feel something
but most of the time people think I’m crazy
and I’m always afraid I will come on too strong
and maybe thats why I write it down
maybe that’s why people tend to call me quiet
maybe that’s why I’ve always been a bit unwelcoming
I’m afraid of what I have to say
because I’m afraid it will be to brutally true
but then again
maybe it could fix you