If you aren’t my destiny, then you are my choice.
Written on an old doorway in Beirut:
I write because I am poor…
I write because all I have are words
I write because I have grown tired of the emptiness of speech
..I would give up my soul in an instant,
just to have you alive.
You were happiness and you were life..
Here’s just 10 photos from my half-week in Marrakech. I’ve never been anywhere quite like Morocco and I felt such a sense of adventure that I have not experienced elsewhere. I feel so drawn to return to Morocco and hope it will not be long before I can do so.
— Haruki Murakami (via liberatingreality)