Sep
17th
Thu
17th
She stood, in a room of crumbling plaster, pressed to the window-pane, looking up at the unattainable form of everything she loved. She did not know the nature of her loneliness. The only words that named it were: This is not the world I expected.
— Ayn Rand (via infinitebutterflies) (via aura-avis) (via sine-qua-non) (via quote-book) (via coldhearted) (via bon-bon)