June 2013
2 posts
May 2013
35 posts
“If there is a God, He will have to beg my forgiveness.”
—A phrase that was carved on the walls of a concentration camp cell during WWII by a Jewish prisoner (via matrioskaaa)
“What
do sad people have in
common?
It seems
they have all built a shrine
to the past
And often go there
to do a strange wail and
worship.
What is the beginning of
happiness?
It is to stop being
so religious
like that.” —“Stop Being So Religious” by Hafiz (via herself-rediscovered)
do sad people have in
common?
It seems
they have all built a shrine
to the past
And often go there
to do a strange wail and
worship.
What is the beginning of
happiness?
It is to stop being
so religious
like that.” —“Stop Being So Religious” by Hafiz (via herself-rediscovered)
“Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood.”
—Pablo Neruda, Winter Garden (via allthingssoulful)
sext: wanna make dinner and have intelligent conversation?
“The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly than even the final surrender; because this kiss already has within it that surrender.”
—Emil Ludwig (via my-own-kind-of-fairytale)
“Where does a thought go when it’s forgotten?”
—Sigmund Freud
(via tusscan)
(via tusscan)
April 2013
65 posts
“It hurts to let go. Sometimes it seems the harder you try to hold on to something or someone the more it wants to get away. You feel like some kind of criminal for having felt, for having wanted. For having wanted to be wanted. It confuses you, because you think that your feelings were wrong and it makes you feel so small because it’s so hard to keep it inside when you let it out and it doesn’t come back. You’re left so alone that you can’t explain. Damn, there’s nothing like that, is there? I’ve been there and you have too.”
—Henry Rollins (via hellanne)
“I thought of my difficulties with writing, my struggles to articulate feelings not easily expressed. Of my struggles to find a language for intuition, feeling, instincts which are, in themselves, elusive, subtle, and wordless”
—Anaïs Nin
(via m-o-ckup)
