hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul
and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all

Warm Bodies:

"But although these new urges are there, some of them startling in their intensity, all I really¬†want to do is lie next to her. In this moment, the most I’d ever hope for would be for her to lay her head on my chest, let out a warm, contented breath, and sleep.”

Me:

 image

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