Revenge is a dish best served cold


A theory states that

People observe the colours of the day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colours. Waxy yellows, cloud-spat blues. Murky darknesses. I make a point to notice them.

The Book Thief
_____

15 diciembre, 2010

When the night falls, my heart falls



Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like.

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario