This is what I miss… not something that’s gone, but something that will never happen.
Everything you love is here (via lovequotesrus)
She lends her pen,
to thoughts of him,
that flow from it,
in her solitary.
For she is his poet,
Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure (via feellng)
And he is her poetry.
I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
John Keats, Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne (via feellng)