• 15th April
    2014
  • 15
  • 15th April
    2014
  • 15
  • 15th April
    2014
  • 15
I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We’ve been taught that silence would save us, but it won’t.
Audre Lorde (via feminist-tips)
  • 14th April
    2014
  • 14
  • 14th April
    2014
  • 14
  • 13th April
    2014
  • 13
  • 13th April
    2014
  • 13
Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.
Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit (via larmoyante)

(via saturniine)

  • 12th April
    2014
  • 12
  • 12th April
    2014
  • 12
  • 11th April
    2014
  • 11
  • 11th April
    2014
  • 11
  • 10th April
    2014
  • 10
  • 10th April
    2014
  • 10
This is what it means to be loved… when someone wants to touch you, to be tender… My body still remembers that feeling, even now. My body knows not to respond to fake love. I guess that’s what it means to have been brought up well.

Banana Yoshimoto - The Lake

(via legyenmalna)

  • 9th April
    2014
  • 09
  • 9th April
    2014
  • 09