She did not giggle wildly and blush when she saw him, nor did she chalk his name on trees or write it on the walls of the Kissing Bridge. She simply lived with his face in her heart all the time, a kind of sweet, hurtful ache. She would have died for him.

—Stephen King, It (via unstolenquotes)

(via wthtears)

3 years ago WITH 479 NOTES + REBLOG

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