May 2013
“Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn’t...”
– Albert Camus, from Notebooks, 1951-1959 (via mirroir)
“You only demand clarity because you’re too comfortable within your vagueness;...”
– Albert Camus, from Notebooks, 1951-1959 (via violentwavesofemotion)
“When nobody else celebrates you, learn to celebrate yourself. When nobody else...”
– Joel Osteen (via rabbitinthemoon)
weissewiese:
“We were not lovers, we were love.”
— Jeanette Winterson
“It’s just so strange.
You used to love me,
and now you’re a stranger
who...”
– Clementine von Radics (via perfect)
“I exist in two places,
here and where you are.”
– Margaret Atwood, Selected Poems (1965-1975)
“Being kind isn’t always easy. Or convenient. But it has the potential to change...”
– Cap Watkins (via nevver)
“I have always looked upon decay as being just as wonderful and rich an...”
– Henry Miller (via ancient-serpent)
“But my favorite part in my body are my dark circles.They define me. They reveal...”
– Léa Seydoux (via moonandmoon)
“Remember that sometimes not getting what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck.”
– The Dalai Lama (via lazyyogi)
“Breathe freely, you who suffered so much.”
– Czesław Miłosz, from “This World”, in New and Collected Poems (1931-2001), trans. Robert Hass (via mirroir)
“You have to find the right distance between people. Too close, and they...”
– Hanif Kureishi (via mishproductions)
April 2013
“I am going to make everything around me beautiful. That will be my life.”
– Elsie De Wolfe (via iconoclassst)
“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the...”
– Rainer Maria Riike, Letters To A Young Poet (via pederost)
“I often felt inferior. I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no...”
– Charles Bukowski (via ohfairies)
“surviving
is the only war
we can afford”
– Margaret Atwood, from “They are hostile nations” (via inherwar)
“People will love you. People will hate you. And none of it will have anything to...”
– Abraham Hicks (via thatkindofwoman)
“The air was saturated with the finest flour of a silence so nourishing, so...”
– Marcel Proust, Swann’s Way (via pensivefrangipani)
