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“I knew it wasn’t too important, but it made me sad anyway.”
– J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (via taitetsu)f (via writingsforwinter)
A Dream Deferred -by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
