Serendipity is life/zuza

—Love is fragile —she was thinking —but perhaps the pieces are saved, the things that hovered on lips, that might have been said. The new love words, the tendernesses learned, are treasured up for the next lover.

—F. Scott Fitzgerald, May Day (via larmoyante)

Who sees the human face correctly: the photographer, the mirror, or the painter?

Pablo Picasso  (via peonify)

(Source: s-stevens, via vodkacupcakes)