[abeerr]

"إِنَّهُ سَمِيعٌ قَرِيبٌ"

[typicalabdullah]

"She turned to me and said: "Hold me". So I dropped the world I had been holding and picked her up with both hands."

- Zachry K Douglas.

[38hz]

Sunrise on Mars by NASA

[a-quiet-green-agreement]

…no one knows why. No one can explain you, your hunger…

– Kurt Fawver, from “The Myth of You,” The Dissolution of Small Worlds (Lethe Press, 2018)

[ph-agnostic]

- سنية صالح ، ديوان ذكر الورد ، قصيدة " ملايين الأرواح خارج غطائها".

[secretcinema1]

Barcelona, 1992, Alex Webb

[hapless-hollow]

… you don’t understand. i can not listen to my heart ever again.

[violentwavesofemotion]

“Don’t you have a knife somewhere deep in your heart where love left?”

— Charles Bukowski, from Man Mowing The Lawn Across The Way From Me (via violentwavesofemotion)

[ffatima9]

[quotespile]

“I’d been on my own for ages, and I was convinced that there was no way I could be any more alone, but now I’d finally realized how alone I truly was. Despite the crowds of people, and all the different places, and a limitless supply of sounds and colors packed together, there was nothing here that I could reach out and touch.”

— Mieko Kawakami, All the Lovers in the Night

[eldestdaughter1]

خطتي لما تبقى من ٢٠٢٦ ادعس كل الود اللي محد حفظه غيري

[blacktout]

“At this moment I do not believe in anything and I have no hope. All forms and expressions that give life its charm seem to me meaningless. I have no feeling either for the future or the past, while the present seems to me poison.”

— Emil Cioran, On the Heights of Despair

[xshayarsha]

“my hand reads poems in other hands.”

— Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Book of Images; The Blind Woman. Tr. Edward Snow.

[raunchily]

Brigitte Bardot’s eyes for the shooting of “Histoires extraordinaires” (1968)

[rubypomegranates]

“So everything lets us down, including curiosity and honesty and what we love best. Yes, said the voice, but cheer up, it's fun in the end.”

Roberto Bolaño “2666”

[paper-fairy]

“I know you. In my heart, I know you very well. You long for something special. You long for something unearthly.”

— Anton Chekhov, tr. by Peter Constantine, from “After The Fair,” c. 1880

[dreamstars]