May 30, 2012   101 notes

“ I had not known, before us, that every vein in my body was capable of carrying light, like a river seen from a train makes a channel of sky etch itself deep into a landscape. I had not really known I could be so much more than myself; I had not known another body could do this to mine. ”

Ali Smith (via beryl-azure)

(via apoetreflects)

October 29, 2011   85 notes

“ For a moment Anne’s heart fluttered queerly and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face. It was as if a veil that had hung before her inner consciousness had been lifted, giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings and realities. Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps… perhaps…love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath. ”

L.M. Montgomery (via atomos)

September 29, 2011   111 notes

“ This luminosity does not negate reason or any rational sense. It simply exists. I am not ‘right,’ rather I had an internal experience, a state of awareness. A kind of poetic sensibility open to the world, to everything—grand and small. ”

Anna Kamienska, from The Notebook: 1965-72 in Astonishments, trans. Curzon and Drabik (via proustitute)

September 24, 2011   129 notes

“ I know myself only insofar as I am inherent in time and in the world, that is, I know myself only in ambiguity. ”

Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Phenomenology of Perception, trans. Colin Smith (via senseofchampagnechic)

(via proustitute)

September 21, 2011   1,422 notes

“ I love your silences, they are like mine. You are the only being before whom I am not distressed by my own silences. You have a vehement silence, one feels it is charged with essences, it is a strangely alive silence, like a trap open over a well, from which one can hear the secret murmur of the earth itself. ”

Anaïs Nin, Under a Glass Bell (via lunch-poems)

(Source: growing-orbits, via lunch-poems)

September 21, 2011   466 notes

(Source: lunch-poems)

September 10, 2011   1 note
August 14, 2011   34 notes
paancakes:

AHHAHAHAHAHA OMG WHY DO I FIND THIS SO FUCKING FUNNY

loolol dying

paancakes:

AHHAHAHAHAHA OMG WHY DO I FIND THIS SO FUCKING FUNNY

loolol dying

(via theeyeofthesnake)

July 24, 2011   8,746 notes
July 17, 2011   288 notes

“ Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heart-ache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, to discover what is already there. ”

Henry Miller (via atomos)