Olé olé olé olé Pearl Jam Pearl Jam
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
$LAYYYTER
Stranger Things

JVL

No title available

tannertan36
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

#extradirty
d e v o n
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Mike Driver
No title available

Janaina Medeiros
cherry valley forever

roma★

Origami Around

titsay
h
will byers stan first human second

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@deborahiruegas
Olé olé olé olé Pearl Jam Pearl Jam
Frida the Dog
Bottled sky by artist Lukasz Wiktorzak.
Facebook | Instagram | Scary Story Site
Kool-Aid Cat.
via (GallowBoob)
Adventure may hurt you but monotony will kill you.
(via quotediva)
Behold, a 120+ year old rhododendron
They rarely grow into anything larger than a shrub, yet alone a tree!
Why does this not have more notes??
Because we’re scared
♥♥ Rosy & Bubblegum ♥♥ - Instagram : sugarbunny07
People have asked me what was it about Spence that made me stay with him for nearly thirty years. And this is somehow impossible for me to answer. I honestly don’t know. I can only say that I could never have left him. He was there— I was his.
Katharine Hepburn | Me: Stories of My Life
Exceptional beauty
Una abeja en una flor amarilla, el lugar, el huerto, el día, hermoso, la sensación, única.
Happy Feet 2 una película que recomiendo ampliamente, en especial ésta parte cuando trabajan en equipo sin importar razas ni colores para lograr un bien común, me hace llorar.
The Battle of Hogwarts
HAPPY BIRTHDAY Frederic Austerlitz Jr. (May 10, 1899 - June 22, 1987) Once after a dinner party, Gregory Peck and I drove Fred Astaire home. Fred lived in a colonial house that had a long porch with many pillars. When we dropped him off, he danced along the whole front porch, then opened the door, tipped his hat to us, and disappeared. Wow! Greg and I couldn’t speak for a few minutes. It was a beautiful way to say thank you. - Kirk Douglas
Markus Linnenbrink - Boombox, 2009
Increíble para decorar un salón!
Quien me ayuda?
LA CASA La mesa, hijo, está tendida, en blancura quieta de nata, y en cuatro muros azulea, dando relumbres, la cerámica. Esta es la sal, éste el aceite y al centro el Pan que casi habla. Oro más lindo que oro del Pan no está ni en fruta ni en retama, y da su olor de espiga y horno una dicha que nunca sacia. Lo partimos, hijito, juntos, con dedos duros y palma blanda, y tú lo miras asombrado de tierra negra que da flor blanca. Baja la mano de comer, que tu madre también la baja. Los trigos, hijo, son del aire, y son del sol y de la azada; pero este pan "cara de Dios" no llega a mesas de las casas; y si otros niños no lo tienen, mejor, mi hijo, no lo tocarás, y no tomarlo mejor sería con mano y mano avergonzadas. * En Chile, el pueblo llama al pan "cara de Dios."
Gabriela Mistral