Twenty-something. Dreamy. Quiet. Blonde. Reader. Tea, autumn, decoration, victorian novels, bossa-nova and fashion lover. Double major on Humanities and Translation & Interpreting. Amateur photographer, painter and writer. When I grow up I want to be an astronaut. You can find out more about me at La Blonde Blafarde a>
Mary: Can you manage without your stick?
Matthew: You are my stick.
Mary: We were a show that flopped.
Matthew: God, Mary. I’m so, so sorry. You know how sorry I am.
Mary: Don’t be. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. If it was, it was mine.
Matthew: You know cousin Violet came to me, told me to marry you.
Mary: When was this?
Matthew: A while ago. When we knew I would walk again.
Mary: Classic granny. What did you say?
Matthew: I couldn’t accept Lavinia’s sacrifice of her life. Her children, her future and then give her the brush off when I was well again, well, I couldn’t, could I?
Mary: Of course not.
Matthew: However much I might want to.
Mary: Absolutely not.
(Source: rivertaminthetardis)
Dying inside- wuurblewuurble.