● vintage & indie blog ●

by Lucy Revere

Actually we did not have the feelings we said we had until we spoke them—at least I didn’t; to phrase them was to invent them and own them.

— Philip Roth, Goodbye, Columbus and Five Short Stories (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

She let out a laugh, and then she put her hand over her mouth, like she was angry at herself for forgetting her sadness.

Jonathan Safran Foer  (via amortizing)

If I have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound but mine as well.

— Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

Girl with cat, Southam Street, London, 1957 (Roger Mayne)

I’ve watched this gif about a hundred times in a row and I smile every time

Sober or drunk, it’s always you.


“We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot.”