[lifeinpoetry]

You will reach

for a door and suddenly you’ll be out in the wind touching all the

horribly beautiful things. You’ll say this moment is not my enemy and

sometimes you’ll believe it.

— Joshua Jennifer Espinoza, from “What It Takes To Leave A House,” published in Lambda Literary

[wordsnquotes]

I like it when it rains hard. It sounds like white noise everywhere, which is like silence but not empty.

Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (via wordsnquotes)

[hypnotic-flow]

[lucid222reveries]

I need this framed on my wall.

[ryangoslingsource]

La La Land (2016)

[larmoyante]

Sometimes I feel like a caretaker of a museum — a huge, empty museum where no one ever comes, and I’m watching over it for no one but myself.

Haruki Murakami, Pinball, 1973 (via larmoyante)

[robertdeniro]

Sometimes awful things have their own kind of beauty.

[theclassicsreader]

I am not what I expected.

Anne Sexton, from “Live” 

[thequotejournals]

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath.

[theclassicsreader]

heart was as big as the world ain’t square with room for the devil and his angels too

e.e. cummings, from “rain or hail” (via theclassicsreader)

[thequotejournals]

…I want enough time to be in love with everything.

Marina Keegan, The Opposite of Loneliness: Essays and Stories

[bananapeppers]

[lookatmeheyoverhere-deactivated]

Hillary 2016

[runwithskizzers]

WOMEN HAVE SEEN THIS COMING FOR YEARS

[lampertino]

BOBBY NEWPORT HAS NEVER HAD A REAL JOB IN HIS LIFE

[quotemadness]

Every relationship is fundamentally a power struggle, and the individual in power is whoever likes the other person less.

Chuck Klosterman (via quotemadness)

[wordsnquotes]

If a poem hasn’t ripped apart your soul; you haven’t experienced poetry.

Edgar Allan Poe (via wordsnquotes)

[nevver]

[bostonpoetryslam]

God, drop your studded overcoat Of stars over us. Let tomorrow’s warm dust Smother us.

Cynthia Cruz, “The Unheard Music,” from The Glimmering Room (via bostonpoetryslam)

[bostonpoetryslam]

I am a girl, and what does it feel like to be a girl. It feels like a hand over your mouth. A hand over your mouth and on your thighs. Some say it is the sound of a rabbit before it is caught. I say it is the sound of the sky before it comes crashing down.

Andrea Rexilius, from New Organism, published in Timber (via bostonpoetryslam)