Undermined Burning
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms, 1929
(via girlgoesgrrr)
Às vezes, imaginação é mais importante que o conhecimento.
(via same-old-converse)
I like books that make me mad. I like books that make me so angry that I want to throw it across the room and never pick it up again, but I have to because I love it so. I like books that make me cry out of frustration because the characters are doing the right thing but not what I want them to, because I want specific ones to be selfish and do what makes them happy instead of being selfless or a hero. I like those really sad books that make you want to lay there in your bed and do nothing and be no one because those books make me happiest. I especially like the books that have a happy ending.
I like books that play hockey with my emotions and tear out my heart, then bandage it up in the last chapter or to.
And if that book so happens to have a kick-ass character or make me laugh until I hyperventilate, well then that’s just a bonus.
