I'm the wicked bitch of the east.

Bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks.

Hey mister can ya tell me where a man might find a bed. He just grinned and shook my hand. “No” was all he said.The Weight

reblogged from: so many foreign roads

Isn’t it odd how much fatter a book gets when you’ve read it several times? As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells, and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower, both strange and familiar.Cornelia Funke

(Source: troubled)