August 2012
133 posts
“I’m beginning to think that maybe it’s not just how much you love someone. Maybe what matters is who you are when you’re with them.”
—Anne Tyler, The Accidental Tourist (via larmoyante)
i actually really love it when someone remembers small details and quirks about me or addresses me by my name at unexpected times like at the end of a sentence and i don’t know why but i just really, really do.
“Write the story that you were always afraid to tell. I swear to you that there is magic in it, and if you show yourself naked for me, I’ll be naked for you. It will be our covenant.”
—Dorothy Allison (via phnxboi)
“I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind and that my cheek just fits the depression in your shoulder.”
—Zelda Fitzgerald, in a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald (via oofpoetry)
“No matter where i go, i still end up me. What’s missing never changes. The scenery may change, but i’m still the same incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that i can never satisfy. I think that lack itself is as close as i’ll come to defining myself.”
— Haruki Murakami (South Of The Border, West Of The Sun)
how i would narrate the Olympics
- me: they're doing some athletic shit
- me: and omg look at that butt
“We live together, we act on, and react to, one another; but always and in all circumstances we are by ourselves. The martyrs go hand in hand into the arena; they are crucified alone. Embraced, the lovers desperately try to fuse their insulated ecstasies into a single self-transcendence; in vain. By its very nature every embodied spirit is doomed to suffer and enjoy in solitude. Sensations, feelings, insights, fancies—all these are private and, except through symbols and at second hand, incommunicable. We can pool information about experiences, but never the experiences themselves. From family to nation, every human group is a society of island universes.”
—Aldous Huxley (via wapiti)
