José Saramago, Blindness (via larmoyante)
"Words are like that. They deceive, they pile up, it seems they do not know where to go, and, suddenly, because of two or three or four that suddenly come out, simple in themselves, a personal pronoun, an adverb, an adjective, we have the excitement of seeing them coming irresistibly to the surface through the skin and the eyes and upsetting the composure of our feelings."
I will spend the rest of my life searching for someone like you. I will look for you in every person I meet. You broke me, you stained me, I am forever jumping to every single one of your shadows: everyone that could be you, everyone that sounds like you, everyone that sets off a spark in me. But no one set me on fire like you.
