i went to boston during spring and my brother slept on the bus from the airport, it was nice
Down washed the rain, deep lowered the welkin; the clouds, ruddy a while ago, had now, through all the blackness, turned deadly pale, as if in terror.
— Charlotte Brontë, Villette, 1853
— Vladimir Nabokov - Lolita (via mariofiorerosso)
The sky said what we couldn’t.
-Con una condizione.
-Che non sia l’ultima volta.
— Tumblr (via findmeplease)
sky looks nice
I’ll have one of these in my loft please!!