I’m tired of my life, my clothes, the things I say. I’m hacking away at the surface, as at some kind of gray ice, trying to break through to what is underneath or I am dead. I can feel the surface trembling—it seems ready to give but it never does. I am uninterested in current events. How can I justify this? How can I explain it?
— James Salter
(via stonefoxxxx)
The best feeling in the world is knowing your presence and absence both mean something to someone.
—
(via stonefoxxxx)
