The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.
New York in black and white. A series by Michael Peter
I’ve read this so many times. I need to get it through my head
(Source: rainingangels, via kristaaann)
