Dying.
Oh. My. God.
I…just can’t anymore…
Pages out of my sketchbook, pencil drawings I did today.
For those who asked - I have a Moleskine Sketchbook! Gonna try and fill it up this year.
I'm Nena, a twenty-one year old diplomat-in-training with an affinity for foreign languages, reading, writing and chocolate. I upload whatever strikes my fancy and will reblog quite liberally...
❒ taken ❒ single ✔ chocolate
Those lips that Love's own hand did make,
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate',
To me that languish'd for her sake.
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was us'd in giving gentle doom;
And taught it thus anew to greet;
'I hate' she alter'd with an end,
That followed it as gentle day,
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
'I hate', from hate away she threw,
And sav'd my life, saying 'not you'.
Sonnet 145, William Shakespeare
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❒ taken ❒ single ✔ chocolate
Those lips that Love's own hand did make,
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate',
To me that languish'd for her sake.
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was us'd in giving gentle doom;
And taught it thus anew to greet;
'I hate' she alter'd with an end,
That followed it as gentle day,
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
'I hate', from hate away she threw,
And sav'd my life, saying 'not you'.
Sonnet 145, William Shakespeare
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