delirium

per aspera ad astra

[luckystarinsky]

“(…) no one wants a half-remembered tragedy. you must know the width of the knife & how it ruined you, name the organs it kissed.”

— olivia gatwood, 'life of the party'.

[perfectquote]

“She felt dangerously powerful, she loved, she knew love, everything else paled.”

— Anna Delbee

[perfectquote]

“I want a blaze of light to flame in me forever in a timeless, dear love of everything. And why should I pretend to want anything else?”

— Jack Kerouac, Windblown World

[mirroir]

“Still,” wrote van Gogh in a letter, “a great deal of light falls on everything.”

[thehopefulquotes]

“There are things that need to be forgotten if you want to keep on living.”

— Jim Thompson

[personal-press]

“Whatever games are played with us, we must play no games with ourselves, but deal in our privacy with the last honesty and truth.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Conduct of Life (via philosophybits)

[melodyhansen]

[boysofbooks]

“My features had not changed, but it seemed to me as though some of his wisdom had marked my expression, a little of his compassion could be traced in the set of my mouth, and hints of his patience were evident on my brow.”

— Stephenie Meyer, Midnight Sun

[amargedom]

“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”

—

[punlovsin]

*

[thebookquotes]

I do not miss childhood, but I miss the way I took pleasure in small things, even as greater things crumbled. I could not control the world I was in, could not walk away from things or people or moments that hurt, but I took joy in the things that made me happy.

— Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

[toboewhisker]

“We must go on and take the adventure that comes to us.”

— C.S. Lewis (The Last Battle)

[prettystuff]

[prettypicsdelightfultips]

http://www.prettypicsdelightfultips.tumblr.com

[freshbrewedlife]

Ana Zilhão | @_goodoldfashioned

[luxelouubygemmalouise-deactivat]

[somepiecesofmyheartandsoul-deac]

“And today, I will turn you into poetry of broken dreams and endless nights, for this is where I am allowed to love you like you are mine from the beginning; in the lines, and every space in between.”

— Lukas W. // In poetry

[mesogeios]

“Every reader, as he reads, is actually the reader of himself. The writer’s work is only a kind of optical instrument he provides the reader so he can discern what he might never have seen in himself without this book. The reader’s recognition in himself of what the book says is the proof of the book’s truth.”

— Marcel Proust, Time Regained