The beautiful things

Sometimes they hide inside, sometimes they are not obvious, and most days, I am not able to see anything at all.

They wanted to speak, but could not; tears stood in their eyes. They were both pale and thin; but those sick pale faces were bright with the dawn of a new future, of a full resurrection into a new life. They were renewed by love; the heart of each held infinite sources of life for the heart of the other.

Fyodor Dostoevsky (via seabois)

(via goldgossamer)