All these soft, warm nights going to waste when I ought to be lying in your arms under the moon - the dearest arms in all the world- darling arms that I love so to feel around me - How much longer before they’ll be here to stay? When I do get home again, you’ll certainly have a most awful time ever moving me one inch from you.

— Zelda Fitzgerald to F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1919

(Source: honeysighs, via havsnymfer)

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