Lovely little things
For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse.
This is not your destruction.
This is your birth.
One day I’ll stop reblogging this. But not today; it’s beautiful.
You think ‘Okay, I get it, I’m prepared for the worst’, but you hold out that small hope, see, and that’s what fucks you up. That’s what kills you.
— Stephen King. “Joyland”. (via fuckyeah-unclesteve)
This morning, with her, having coffee.
— Johnny Cash, when asked for his description of paradise (via oofpoetry)