In my ideal version of a Broadway musical version of Frozen, Elsa cuts people’s hair for a living and ends up setting up a shop above Anna, who is this deranged pie shop owner and then Elsa begins killing her customers so she can make pies out of their bodies. And Anna’s name is Mrs. Lovett and Elsa’s name is Sweeney, and she’s a man. And all the songs from the movie are cut and the new score is written by Stephen Sondheim.
How To Tell If You Are In A Jane Austen Novel (via timemarauder)
A woman who hates you is playing the pianoforte.
You have five hundred a year. From who? Five hundred what? No one knows. No one cares. You have it. It’s yours. Every year. All five hundred of it.
A charming man attempts to flirt with you. This is terrible.
You are in a garden, and you are astonished.
You can’t find intimacy—you can’t find home—when you’re always hiding behind masks. Intimacy requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain level of you exposing your fragmented, contradictory self to someone else. You running the risk of having your core self rejected and hurt and misunderstood.Junot Díaz (via jarelion)
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