“…and when I think of you all my skin smells of lilies of the valley.”— Claude de Burine, from The Visitor: Poems; “The Other Life,” c. 1990 (via violentwavesofemotion)
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“All these soft, warm nights going to waste when I ought to be lying in your arms under the moon.”— Zelda Fitzgerald, in a letter to Scott: “Dear Scott, Dearest Zelda”
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