I’m back from a few days away in West Cornwall. I fell a little in love with the place to be honest. It’s like home (Wales), but also totally different. It’s places like that where I could see myself living when I finally enter the real world.
“Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play… I tell you, that it is on things like these that our lives depend.”—Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via bookmania)