The loveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gay,
The glory that was Rome is just another day,
I’ve been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan,
I’m going home to my city by the bay.
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"Rachel: You’re an asshole!
Ethan: Yeah, maybe i am. But i’m the only asshole here who gives a shit about you."
i like the part where he said he love her but why does he loves her he’ll never know
I’ve tried
writing
poetry, you see?It is easier to read
and
lovely, sounding.
like
yellow golden leaves
and tired bent trees
and cracked fingertips
and lost memoriesexcept,
I can’t write,
poetry.
(via tweexcore)
