Hello.

Marta. 21. Portuguese. Living in Chicago. Architecture and photography are my life.
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You know how people long to be eternal. But they die with every day that passes. When you meet them, they’re not what you met last. In any given hour, they kill some part of themselves. They change, they deny, they contradict—and they call it growth. At the end there’s nothing left, nothing unreversed or unbetrayed; as if there had never been an entity, only a succession of adjectives fading in and out on an unformed mass.

—The Fountainhead (via cloudedsighsbleary)

They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.

—Banksy (via alexwise)