Smells Like Sunshine

i smell leather-bound books with tattered, dog-eared pages, chocolate, wet grass from the rain and sunshine from a love potion.

(via fuckyeahslightlyamusing)
ah, pun jokes, how i adore you.

(via fuckyeahslightlyamusing)

ah, pun jokes, how i adore you.

— 7 hours ago with 20 notes
“Would you like me to fix it for you? Personally, I think you look a little more devil-may-care this way, but it’s up to you.”
via

“Would you like me to fix it for you?
Personally, I think you look a little more devil-may-care this way, but it’s up to you.”

via

— 9 hours ago with 1 note
Harry: “hm… have you ever fixed a nose before?”Luna: “No. But I’ve done several toes, and how different are they, really?”Harry: “…Okay, yeah, sure, give it a go.”Luna: “Episkey!”Harry: *CRACK* “Augh…! [looks at luna] Well? How do I look?”Luna: “Exceptionally ordinary.”Harry: “Brilliant.”
via

Harry: “hm… have you ever fixed a nose before?”
Luna: “No. But I’ve done several toes, and how different are they, really?”
Harry: “…Okay, yeah, sure, give it a go.”
Luna: “Episkey!”
Harry: *CRACK* “Augh…! [looks at luna] Well? How do I look?”
Luna: “Exceptionally ordinary.”
Harry: “Brilliant.”

via

— 9 hours ago
"He says my daughter, and all the love he has is wrapped up in the tone of his voice when he says those two words, he says my daughter you must always look with both of your eyes and listen with both of your ears. He says this is a very big world and there are many many things you could miss if you are not careful. He says there are remarkable things all the time, right in front of us, but our eyes have like the clouds over the sun and our lives are pale and poorer if we do not see them for what they are. He says, if nobody speaks of remarkable things, how can they be called remarkable?"
If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things by Jon McGregor
— 15 hours ago
"There are stories that are true, in which each individual’s tale is unique and tragic, and the worst of the tragedy is that we have heard it before, and we cannot allow ourselves to feel it too deeply. We build a shell around it like an oyster dealing with a painful particle of grit, coating it with smooth pearl layers in order to cope. This is how we walk and talk and function, day in, day out, immune to others’ pain and loss. If it were to touch us it would cripple us or make saints of us; but, for the most part, it does not touch us. we cannot allow it to."
American Gods, Neil Gaiman (submitted by softwhisper) (via fyneilgaiman)
— 16 hours ago with 16 notes