“Think how you love me,” she whispered. “I don’t ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember.”

“You’ll always be like this to me.”

“Oh no; but promise me you’ll remember.” Her tears were falling. “I’ll be different, but somewhere lost inside me there’ll always be the person I am tonight.”

— F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night  (via fahncee)
Source: human-voices
Shared Jun 11 with 5,350 notes
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