I’m going to find a way to be happy, and I’d really love to be happy with you, but if I can’t be happy with you, then I’ll find a way to be happy without you.
Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture (via wondrousworld)

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I’m going to find a way to be happy, and I’d really love to be happy with you, but if I can’t be happy with you, then I’ll find a way to be happy without you.
Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture (via wondrousworld)
My mother taught me to pray; she taught me the prayer her mother taught her. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. At nightfall, I knelt before my little bed as she stood, with her ever-present cigarette, listening as I recited after her. I wished nothing more than to say my prayers, yet these words troubled me and I plagued her with questions. What is the soul? What color is it? I suspected my soul, being mischievous, might slip away while I was dreaming and fail to return. I did my best not to fall asleep, to keep it inside of me where it belonged. Perhaps to satisfy my curiosity, my mother enrolled me in Sunday school. We were taught by rote, Bible verses and the words of Jesus. Afterward we stood in line and were rewarded with a spoonful of comb honey. There was only one spoon in the jar to serve many coughing children. I instinctively shied from the spoon but I swiftly accepted the notion of God. It pleased me to imagine a presence above us, in continual motion, like liquid stars. Not contented with my child's prayer, I soon petitioned my mother to let me make my own. I was relieved when I no longer had to repeat the words If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take and could say instead what was in my heart. Thus freed, I would lie in my bed by the coal stove vigorously mouthing long letters to God. I was not much of a sleeper and I must have vexed him with my endless vows, visions, and schemes. But as time passed I came to experience a different kind of prayer, a silent one, requiring more listening than speaking. My small torrent of words dissipated into an elaborate sense of expanding and receding. It was my entrance into the radiance of imagination. This process was especially magnified within the fevers of influenza, measles, chicken pox, and mumps. I had them all and with each I was privileged with a new level of awareness. Lying deep within myself, the symmetry of a snowflake spinning above me, intensifying through my lids, I seized a most worthy souvenir, a shard of heaven's kaleidoscope.
Patti Smith, Just Kids
Bye Hanukkah.
Delicate Handmade Scarves Showcase Famous Book Covers
Thailand-based boutique FreshComfy crafts handmade chiffon scarves, which feature the print of the most famous classical books in literature. Featuring Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, the artist’s main goal is to create a stunning and unique product, which reveals one’s personal interests and personality. You can find scarves which pay homage to other works, such as Lewis Carroll’s, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre among many others on her Etsy shop.
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#12
🗻🌃🌅🌄 addition #6
Black and grey roses for Carlee! (I didn’t do the birds!)
inner bicep peonies! thank you robyn!
always happy to do roses like this, thanks mary!