But if you knew you might not be able to see it again tomorrow, everything would suddenly become special and precious, wouldn’t it?
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore (via volturius)
Everything is a self-portrait. A diary. Your whole drug history’s in a strand of your hair. Your fingernails. The forensic details. The lining of your stomach is a document. The calluses on your hand tell all your secrets. Your teeth give you away. Your accent. The wrinkles around your mouth and eyes. Everything you do shows your hand.
― Chuck Palahniuk, Diary (via shesanargonaut)
