She's a jar, with a heavy lid.

On the floor at the great divide with my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied. I'm Audrey. People don't fit into little boxess; they're too complex.

[zarb]

[sam-shatsky]

[fuckyeah-filmpalettes]

The Grand Budapest Hotel, dir. Wes Anderson (2014)

[theletterkilleth]

The best translations into English do not, in fact, read as if they were originally written in English. The English words are arranged in such a way that the reader sees a glimpse of another culture’s patterns of thinking, hears an echo of another language’s rhythms and cadences, and feels a tremor of another people’s gestures and movements.

Ken Liu, Translator’s Postscript to The Three Body Problem by Liu Cixin (via theletterkilleth)

[sarahseeandersen]

[healingsuggestions]

you are not your bad days. you are not who they couldn’t love. you are the light and triumph, you are learning and growing and your are your own hallelujah. you are the good days and you are the earth. you are blooming and becoming and each day is so special and so are you. 

[luthienne]

I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again —

Georgia O’Keeffe, in a letter to Russel Vernon Hunter, from Georgia O’Keeffe: Art and Letters (via luthienne)

[postsecretworld]

[theweirdwideweb]

[cur-sed]

[c3po]

remember to drink a fucking shit ton of water every miserable day of ur life

[please-dxddy]

[quotemadness]

You never forget. It must be somewhere inside you. Even if the brain has forgotten, perhaps the teeth remember. Or the fingers.

Neil Gaiman (via quotemadness)

[kuurakuu-deactivated20220426]

‘please come back soon’

there were extremely fun to make so expect more in the future

[tockthewatchdog-deactivated2020]

me: hey can you make dopamine and serotonin

my brain:

[chefpyro]

my cat: *grabs my hand the same way felines in the wild use to snap their prey’s neck*

me: aww. you think you can kill me? fool. you are far too weak to challenge me. i love you

[naturaekos]

I was always ashamed to take. So I gave. It was not a virtue. It was a disguise.

Anaïs Nin, from The Diary Of Anais Nin (via jolinxo)