People disappeared, reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other, searched for each other, found each other a few feet away.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (via untames)
I have the deepest affection for intellectual conversations. The ability to just sit and talk. About love, about life, about anything, about everything. To sit under the moon with all the time in the world, the full-speed train that is our lives slowing to a crawl. Bound by no obligations, barred by no human limitations. To speak without regret or fear of consequence. To talk for hours and about what’s really important in life.
Everyone’s just looking for reasons to wake up and get out of bed, some do it for nothing but a kiss, perhaps a cup of coffee, others have a harder time; no train to catch, no hand to hold, no reasons at all.
— Unknown (via sickur)
