Right when I was done with love, I met her... & she did the unthinkable. Broke what was left.

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Rain on roof outside window, gray light, deep covers and warm blankets. Rain and nip of autumn in air; nostalgia, itch to work better and bigger. That crisp edge of autumn.The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, 26 August 1956 in Paris (via petit-poids)

(Source: lovingsylvia)


Zdenek Burian 1937