silence screams the truth.

silence screams the truth.

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Reading was my escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for the pure pleasure of it, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you hear an author’s words reverberating in your head.
Paul Auster, The Brooklyn Follies (via feellng)

(via catie-cate)

260,159 notes

headfirstintowonderland:

so someone once called my old english teacher immature (because at this point he was spinning around on a wheely chair) and he said:

“Yeah, but the truth is we never really grow up. We just masquerade as adults because that’s what we’re expected to do.”

and to this day that is the single most profound thing i have ever heard uttered by someone dicking around on a swivel chair

(via holdin-on-for-better-days)