I interviewed a woman who is terminally ill. ‘So,’ I tried to delicately ask, ‘What is it like to wake up every morning and know that you are dying?’ ‘Well,’ she responded, ‘What is it like to wake up every morning and pretend that you are not?’
- (via yasodhara
(Source: fleshscars, via thisfragilerose)
She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cozy bed, and to love and to be loved in return.
- Starra Neely Blade (via lotsofpinkplaid