Reina de los Condenados

"Amonkira, Lord of Hunters, grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift. And should the worst come to pass, grant me forgiveness."

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"Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better."
-Henry Rollin (via bokura)

(Source: 666feetdown)

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"Nature is busy creating absolutely unique individuals, whereas culture has invented a single mold to which all must conform. It is grotesque."
-Jiddu Krishnamurti (via rawrmarks)
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"There is a terrible emptiness in me, an indifference that hurts."
-Albert Camus (via feuille-d-automne)

(Source: clairvoyant---disease)

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"Relax. You will become an adult. You will figure out your career. You will find someone who loves you. You have a whole lifetime; time takes time. The only way to fail at life is to abstain."
-Johanna de Silentio (via quotecatalog)
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"I am tired of knowing nothing and being reminded of it all the time."
-F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is the Night   (via used2thepain)

(Source: bluesandbarebones)

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"I don’t want to go to heaven. None of my friends are there."
-Oscar Wilde (via lavestale)

(Source: larmoyante)

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"I wasn’t actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity."
-F. Scott Fitzgerald  (via kinetics)

(Source: misswallflower)

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"People don’t always want to be with people. It gets tiring."
-Emma Donoghue, Room  (via odaro)

(Source: larmoyante)

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"I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because ‘romantic’ doesn’t mean ‘sugary.’ It’s dark and tormented — the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can’t attain."
-Catherine Breillat (via weaverofstars)

(Source: jarrodis)

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"I felt dreadfully inadequate. The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn’t thought about it."
-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via durianquotes)
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"Hate blinds people. You were not aware of that. Love can read the writing on the remotest star, but Hate so blinded you that you could see no further than the narrow, walled-in, and already lust-withered garden of your common desires."
-Oscar Wilde, De Profundis
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