Oscar Wilde (via laceofpearls)
My love for Oscar Wilde knows no bounds. That man was a literary genius, and I’m pretty sure our souls are tethered together.
I think about what makes a person quite a lot. I always find happiness in simple things. In fact, it doesn’t take a lot to make me happy. I find most things interesting—that’s the product of spending much of my childhood alone. You see, when you grow up without a lot of material possessions, things like flowers and books do make you happy. And then as we grow older, materialism sets in, and we learn just how vital having money is to our lives.
But that doesn’t mean I forget about the simple things. I’ll always love those yellow weeds that pop up in the summer—when I was little, I thought they were beautiful. A field of overgrown weeds was my beautiful garden. And there’s something magical about that.
I like simple things. Flowers, books, weeds, the sun—and the moon—life. Things like that will put a smile on my face any day. I just wish more people saw the beauty in simple things. Instead, people tend to take them for granted.
And I find that to be heartbreaking.
One of my favorites.
(via konfusionwithak)
“Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agised as in that hour left my lips: for never may you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love.”
— Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
wait, this couldn’t be more perfect. Finally, my love of nineteenth century English literature and Jersey Shore collide.