Little Gin was a fish, fish, fish
He lived in a dish, dish, dish
Fish, fish, fish
Dish,dish,dish
And then he died.
May 28th
10:56 PM
Via
"The word ‘happiness’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness."
—  Carl G. Jung  (via haruine)
10:42 PM
Via
1:02 PM
Via
12:55 PM
Via
I really do have the most interesting friends.

I really do have the most interesting friends.

amustsayb:

“I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind and that my cheek just fits the depression in your shoulder.”
—Zelda Fitzgerald, in a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald

amustsayb:

I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind and that my cheek just fits the depression in your shoulder.

—Zelda Fitzgerald, in a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald