be patient, wild eyes



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"His mother had been delicate, both in stature and nature, a wispy, slim-waisted woman with a puff of hair always spilling from under her scarf. He used to wonder how such a frail little body could house so much joy, so much goodness. It couldn’t. It spilled out of her, came pouring out her eyes."

And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini (via ferme-la-bouchee)

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