Morgan, 20’s, Toronto

Poets are Damned... but See with the Eyes of Angels.

starksren:

Camilla Macaulay, The Secret History by Donna Tartt (1992)

She was still a girl, a slight lovely girl who lay in bed and ate chocolates, a girl whose hair smelled like hyacinth and whose scarves fluttered jauntily in the breeze. But strange and marvellous as she was, a wisp of silk in a forest of black wool, she was not the fragile creature one would have her seem.