Feb 10 -
Just brought some back from Paris. Divine.
(Source: dirty-lynx, via slightlypretentious)
There would still remain the never-resting mind, So that one would want to escape, come back To what had been so long composed. The imperfect is our paradise. Note that, in this bitterness, delight, Since the imperfect is so hot in us, Lies in flawed words and stubborn sounds. - Wallace Stevens Me: a Progressive in pearls who is just still trying to figure out life. I've left Oxford, who will I be now?
