“Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth-but there was an excitement in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered “listen,” a promise that she had done gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour.”
— F. Scott Fitzgerald; “The Great Gatsby” (via seabois)
“There is a primal reassurance in being touched, in knowing that someone else, someone close to you, wants to be touching you. There is a bone-deep security that goes with the brush of a human hand, a silent, reflex-level affirmation that someone is near, that someone cares.”