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And I have by me, for my comfort, two strange white flowers— shriveled now, and brown and flat and brittle— to witness that even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and a mutual tenderness still lived on in the heart of man.

H.G. Wells, from The Time Machine

(via the-final-sentence)
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Sometimes transitional periods in life leave you feeling like a great big jumble of loose, split ends.

Brandi L. Bates (via psych-facts)
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I miss the quiet empty road at night. The road I would take to a friend’s house and laughter would only be a few minutes away. The same plaza where familiar faces would go to buy booze for a weekend party. The same place where I used to work as a busy student. The bus stop. The boring town. That life. The people in it. I didn’t even have the chance to say bye. And I feel like a ghost every time I come back to it. 

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If you won’t sing in the car with me when we drive, we can’t be friends

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