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We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric lightbulb, sucking on it.

Anne Sexton on talking with Sylvia Plath   (via womenlikeher) // reblog

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There is a chasm between me and the world outside of me. A gap so wide my feelings can’t cross it. By the time my screams reach the other side, they have dwindled into groans.

Isaac Marion, Warm Bodies (via quotes-shape-us) // reblog

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