#murderclique

“…if we are strong enough in our souls we can rip away the veil and look that naked, terrible beauty right in the face; let God consume us, devour us, unstring our bones. Then spit us out reborn.”

went on a trip today and saw this library which was really beautiful 

i moved blogs, u can follow me @godlesss if u wanna!! reblog this to spread the word

✨My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner✨

Charles, her heel in his hand, caught the glass between thumb and forefinger and pulled gently. Camilla caught her breath in a quick, wincing gasp. Charles drew back like he’d been scalded. He made as if to touch her foot again, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. His fingertips were wet with blood. “Well, go on,” said Camilla, her voice fairly steady. “I can’t do it. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.” Charles turned away; he was almost as white as she was, and I wondered if that old story was true, if one twin felt pain when the other was injured.

He was a prince of darkness– –who had chosen her. “I have never been in love before,” Julian said. “You’re my first–and you’ll be my only.”

“Does such a thing as ‘the fatal flaw,’ that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn’t. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.”

“But how,” said Charles, who was close to tears, “how can you possibly justify cold-blooded murder?’ Henry lit a cigarette. “I prefer to think of it,” he had said, “as redistribution of matter.”