Come una costante sensazione di mancata appartenenza.


Ci amavamo di un amore prematuro, segnato da quella ferocia che così spesso distrugge le vite degli adulti. Io ero un ragazzo forte, e sopravvissi; ma il veleno rimase nella ferita, la ferita non si rimarginò più.
Lolita, Nabokov (via miss-dronio)

(via cardiocrazia)

Posted January 25th at 3:48pm Notes: 62
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