forty-six: anaïs nin.

even the moon is fancier in paris. april 2012.

I love a writer who slices herself open, shows you her insides and doesn’t make a single apology for it. Sometimes you need to bleed, bleed, bleed.

“I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing, my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ.” – Anaïs Nin

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