April was too lonely a month to spend alone. In April, everyone around me looked happy. People would throw their coats off and enjoy each other’s company in the sunshine—talking, playing catch, holding hands. But I was always by myself.
Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (via earnestly)
Judith and the Head of Holofernes by Gustav Klimt, c. 1901
Margaret Atwood (via observando)