"I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves, and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind, and that my cheek just fits the depression of your shoulder" -Zelda Fitzgerald
"It’s just that I feel so sad these wonderful nights, I sort of feel they’re never coming again, and I’m not getting really all I could out of them" -Zelda Fitzgerald
Come find me,
Somewhere along the streets of Montmartre.
Dancing upon the faded at O’Sullivan’s
Looking for the boy who’s name is Dylan
Ive been dreaming… Ive been looking for you.