Reblog | 0
Reblog | 1
Reblog | 2
Reblog | 0
Reblog | 2
Reblog | 2
Reblog | 1
I love to travel, but I hate to arrive. — Albert Einstein
Reblog | 2
You’ll remember me when the west wind moves Upon the fields of barley You’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky As we walk in the fields of gold — “Fields of gold” by Sting
Reblog | 0
Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower — Albert Camus
Reblog | 1
Reblog | 0
Reblog | 1
Reblog | 2
I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do — Willa Cather
Reblog | 0