Facticity

Political Science Student. 22. Good And Evil Do Not Exist. Lost.

[existentialmau]

“I want to look back and say that I was alive. That I didn’t turn my back. That I tried. That I was happy.”

— Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited  (via weltenwellen)

[existentialmau]

Hello

[determinate-negation]

[theliteraryjournals]

I want to look back and say that I was alive. That I didn’t turn my back. That I tried. That I was happy.

Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited  (via weltenwellen)

[surrealism-love]

Sleep, 1932, Pablo Picasso

Size: 130x97 cm Medium: oil on canvas

[cheapsushi]

[urgetocreate]

David Kapp

[lonequixote]

The Kiss (detail) by Gustav Klimt

(via @lonequixote)

[kalliope-amorphous]

West End Ave, NYC www.kalliopeamorphous.com

[soupsoup]

One of the problems with our political press is that its reference group for establishing the “ground” of consensus is the insiders: the professional political class in Washington. It then offers that consensus to the country as if it were the country’s own, when it’s not, necessarily. This erodes confidence in a way that may be invisible to journalists behaving as insiders themselves. And it gives the opening to Jon Stewart and his kind to exploit that gap I talked about between making news and making sense.

Jay Rosen (via soupsoup)

[wordsnquotes]

I used to imagine adventures for myself, I invented a life, so that I could at least exist somehow.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from the Underground (via likeanoldstory)

[lonequixote]

At the Moulin Rouge (detail) by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

(via @lonequixote)

[rhade-zapan]

Illustration | Unknown Artist

More Illustrations on Rhade-Zapan]

Follow Rhade-Zapan for more visual treats

[superherokiller]

[lonequixote]

Death and Life by Gustav Klimt

(via @lonequixote)

[camillepissarro-art]

Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.

Camille Pissarro  (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

I was shy, withdrawn, and read obsessionally. But I never wanted to be anyone else other than me.

Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anais Nin, Vol. 6: 1955-1966 (via violentwavesofemotion)