As he held her and tasted her, and as she curved in further and further toward him, with her own lips, new to herself, drowned and engulfed in love, yet solaced and triumphant, he was thankful to have an existence at all, if only as a reflection in her wet eyes.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night  (via 33113)

(Source: fitzgeraldquotes, via lostinyourflaws)