no i’m not gonna lend you my pencil because if i lend you my pencil then you’ll want my calculator and then you’ll want austria and czechoslovakia and then you’ll end up invading poland and i will not have that shit
“Coming home to someone is many things. It is a literal action, an abstract idea, a physical feeling. It is more than the sound of the key turning in the door and the voice that calls from the porch. It is a choice, a promise, a declaration. It is a return, not as a person to a place, but as oneself to another. It is one individual saying to another: ‘You are the one I choose’.”—(via rootsandroutes)
“Forget stardust—you are iron. Your blood is nothing but ferrous liquid. When you bleed, you reek of rust. It is iron that fills your heart and sits in your veins. And what is iron, really, unless it’s forged?