I would like to read the Mortal Engines series again. I’ve forgotten how much I enjoyed it (:
two lipsticks and a lover
I’m always cast as sort of slightly wan, ethereal, troubled, intellectuals or physically ambivalent bad lovers. I’m here to tell you I’m quite the opposite in real life. I’m a fucking fantastic lover.
Benedict Cumberbatch (via burtonismiswin)
(Source: aribau, via la-petite-amelie)
(Source: dailydoseofstuf, via robotrogue)
Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?
He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream, and he sometimes wondered whose it was, and whether they were enjoying it.’
(Source: alightthatnevergoesout, via bloodisthenewblackk)
Ok, the Human Project gives this great, big dinner for all the scientists and sages in the world. They’re tossing around theories about the ultimate mystery: why are all the women infertile? Why can’t we make babies anymore? So, some say it’s genetic experiments, gamma rays, pollution, same ol’, same ol’. So, anyway, in the corner, this Englishman’s sitting, he hasn’t said a word, he’s just tuckin’ in his dinner. So, they decide to ask him, they say, “Well, why do you think we can’t make babies anymore?” And he looks up at ‘em, he’s chewin’ on this great big wing and he says “I haven’t the faintest idea,” he said, “but this stork is quite tasty isn’t he?”
(Source: kingmoriartea, via quinnquinnquinnquinn)
(Source: justonemore-miracle, via intergalactic-ratatouille)
(Source: psychedelic15, via 10000hzwilde)
I’m a creature of habit, mashed-potato comfort. I like rugs. Our sofa’s squishy. Maybe too squishy - it’s hard to get up sometimes.
(Source: branstarks, via intergalactic-ratatouille)
