Bailey Loveless

“I am Emma Woodhouse. I feel for her, of her and in her. I have a different sort of snobbism, but I understand her snobbism. Her priggishness. I admire it. I know she does wrong things, she tries to organize other people's lives, she can't see Mr Knightley is a man in a million. She's temporarily silly, yet all the time one knows she's basically intelligent. Creative, determined to set the highest standards. A real human being.”
― John Fowles, The Collector

“I address you all tonight for who you truly are: wizards, mermaids, travelers, adventurers, and magicians. You are the true dreamers.”
― Brian Selznick, The Invention of Hugo Cabret

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.”
― Henry David Thoreau

“To give yourself over to another body
That’s all you want really
To be out of your own and consumed by another
To swim inside the skin of your lover
Not have to breathe
Not have to think
But you can’t live on love
And salt water’s no drink
We're dying of thirst so we feast on each other
The sea is still our violent mother
The blood round here pours down like water
Each wave a lamb lead to the slaughter
And like children that she just can’t teach
We break, and break, and break
And break ourselves upon the beach- Body of Water”
― Florence Welch, Useless Magic: Lyrics and Poetry