I fell asleep in the deep velvet of this wood; I dreamt divine things.
Delmira Agustini, from Morning Songs: Poems; “The Wings,” c. 1910 (via violentwavesofemotion)

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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@far-farahway
I fell asleep in the deep velvet of this wood; I dreamt divine things.
Delmira Agustini, from Morning Songs: Poems; “The Wings,” c. 1910 (via violentwavesofemotion)
hello.
Hey, you.
Brno, 27. 11. 2017
Without tenderness, a man is uninteresting.
Marlene Dietrich (via thoughtsforbees)
Travel Advisory
Had to share this @WeHeartIt http://weheartit.com/entry/259983027/via/Gorgeous_chaos
I want you to stop running from thing to thing to thing, and to sit down at the table, to offer the people you love something humble and nourishing, like soup and bread, like a story, like a hand holding another hand while you pray. We live in a world that values us for how fast we go, for how much we accomplish, for how much life we can pack into one day. But I’m coming to believe it’s in the in-between spaces that our lives change, and that the real beauty lies there.
Shauna Niequist (via dailydoseofstuf)
From tiny experiences we build cathedrals.
Orhan Pamuk, from “The Art of Fiction No. 187,″ interview by Ángel Gurría-Quintana, Paris Review (No. 175, Fall/Winter 2005)
People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.
Jim Morrison (via thequotejournals)
The very serious function of racism is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work. It keeps you explaining over and over again why you are here. Somebody says you don’t have any language so you spend 20 years proving you do. Somebody says you don’t have any culture so you dredge that up. None of that is necessary. There will always be one more thing. The strategy is no different than bombing Cambodia to keep the Northern Vietnamese from making their big push. And since not history, not anthropology, not social sciences seem capable in a strong and consistent way to grapple with that problem, it may very well be left to the artists to do it. For art focuses on the single grain of rice, the tree-shaped scar, and the names of people, not only the number that arrived. And to the artist one can only say, not to be confused, not to be confused. You don’t waste your energy fighting the fever; you must only fight the disease. And the disease is not racism. It is greed and the struggle for power. And I urge you to be careful. For there is a deadly prison: the prison that is erected when one spends one’s life fighting phantoms, concentrating on myths, and explaining over and over to the conqueror your language, your lifestyle, your history, your habits. And you don’t have to do it anymore. You can go ahead and talk straight to me. Complete your work without worry. Do not be confused. Don’t waste your energy fighting the fever, you must only fight the disease. And I urge you to be careful, for there is a deadly prison. The prison that is erected when one spends their life fighting phantoms, concentrating on myths, and explaining over and over to the conqueror your language, your lifestyle, your culture, your habits. And you don’t have to do it anymore. You don’t have to dwell on changing the minds of racists. Racial ignorance is a prison from which there is no escape because there are no doors, and there are old, old men and old, old women who need to believe in their racism, and need you to focus all of your creative energy on them. They thrive on the failures of those unlike them. They are in prisons of their own construction. But you must know the truth. That you are free.
From Toni Morrison’s speech at Portland State, 1975. [audio] [transcript] (via medievalpoc)
Everything is created twice, first in the mind and then in reality. So pay close attention to the thoughts you choose. They have a way of becoming real.
(via i-nimit-able)
This looks beautiful.
They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (via thelovejournals)