Life will defend itself no matter how small it is.– Life of Pi (via starsmending)
If I lose the light of the sun, I will write by candlelight, moonlight, no...– Henry Rollins
I believe that one defines oneself by reinvention. To not be like your parents....– Henry Rollins
We’re always attracted to the edges of what we are, out by the edges where it’s...– E.L. Doctorow (via reluctantbuddha)
You don’t forget the face of the person who was your last hope.– The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (via daydreamdelusion) (via starsmending)
I had a job interview at an insurance company once, and the lady said ‘where do...– Mitch Hedberg (via pretendyralive) (via audiogasm) (via litsakouzina)
Writing is a form of therapy. Sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write,...– Graham Greene (via psychotherapy) (via quote-book)(via hit-or-miss) (via istalksnape)
Saving sorrows for a rainy day. All the clouds are empty now. All the songs have stopped and bowed in reverence. The ropes have let loose their knots. Aprons untied. Games unfinished. Letters half-written. Sentences unsaid. There will be time in time for all the timelessness to unravel. Bread to become crumbs. Skin to resort to numb. Now dawn chaperones in the scarred sky again. Now we...
clothedinsky:bubbledumpster:onemoretimewithfeeling:littleorphanammo: You have at least a million relatives as close as a tenth cousin, and no one on Earth is any farther removed than your 50th cousin. Guy Murchie also describes our kinship through an analysis of how deeply we share the air. With each breath, you take into your body 10 sextrillion atoms, and—owing to the wind’s ceaseless...
Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to...– P. J. O’Rourke
Jeruselum bells, artichokes, circles encircled, a nautilus shell keeping secrets, honest words, fabricated Russian Dolls, hiding ourselves inside ourselves . Kings and candles, lighting up nights and windows from far off towns, flying over mountains glistening white in a dark sky from an airplane window I searched and saw not one light . A missionary of thresholds, caught in a...
I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted To lie with my hands turned up and be...– excerpt from Tulips, by Sylvia Plath. (via rd67)
Edison's legacy: the emerging link between light... →