hairs

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+ 302 True love is eternal, infinite, and always like itself. It is equal and pure, without violent demonstrations: it is seen with white hairs and is always young in the heart. Honore de Balzac


+ 182 Between two Chairs.


+ 94 Unhappiness slowly creeps up on you, like a shape-shifting monster waiting in the darkness of your hallway, his bulging eyes watching your every move. The breath on his slimy tongue makes the hairs on your neck stand up. Kate Rockland, Falling Is Like This