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‘But I like you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I like you first and second and third.’
F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (via larmoyante)
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I wrote a poem about it, and then threw it away, because that’s the last thing I need right now: More words dedicated to people who will never dedicate a single thing to me.
Thought Catalog (via swimmingpoolforants)

(Source: koizoraa)