I wrote about the night bird cries, the sea sounds, and the lonely barking, and I liked what I wrote in flashes; but something was wrong with it. There is always something wrong with writing. So I tore the paper up at last, liking the untouched memory so much better, not wanting it forced into the insincerity of words.

-Denton Welch, A Voice Through A Cloud

(via mythologyofblue)

Source: trivialrecords

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