“There is no complete life. There are only fragments. We are born to have nothing, to have it pour through our hands. And yet, this pouring, this flood of encounters, struggles, dreams…”
— James Salter, Light Years (via myonegin)
Show & Tell
i don't do bad sauce passes
d e v o n

izzy's playlists!
Cosimo Galluzzi

Love Begins

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Three Goblin Art
DEAR READER
Today's Document
taylor price
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Peter Solarz

Kaledo Art
Sweet Seals For You, Always
sheepfilms
RMH
dirt enthusiast
seen from Malaysia
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@aversess
“There is no complete life. There are only fragments. We are born to have nothing, to have it pour through our hands. And yet, this pouring, this flood of encounters, struggles, dreams…”
— James Salter, Light Years (via myonegin)
Louise Glück, from “Blue Rotunda.” [ID in alt text]
Evelyn Waugh, from Brideshead Revisited (1945)
Kate Chopin, from The Awakening
Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963
"Tired" by Langston Hughes.
“Opinion is really the lowest form of human knowledge. It requires no accountability, no understanding. The highest form of knowledge is empathy, for it requires us to suspend our egos and live in another’s world. It requires profound purpose larger than the self kind of understanding.”
— Plato
Rachel Mennies, from "April 18, 2017," The Naomi Letters
Percy Smith, Birth of a Flower, 1910
my gifs
Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary
[text ID: A lovely September day—tender—]
Margaret Atwood, True Stories; from ‘Variation On the Word Sleep’
“What comes after awareness? And then what? And then what?”
— — Noor Hindi, from “Pledging Allegiance,” DEAR GOD. DEAR BONES. DEAR YELLOW.
“Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts.”
— Kate Jacobs; Comfort Food
Liv Tyler ph. Ellen von Unwerth
— Susan Sontag, Death Kit
[text ID: How can I describe my life to you? I think a lot, listen to music. I’m fond of flowers.]
Anaïs Nin, Fire: From “A Journal of Love”: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1934–1937