Literately Lovely

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

[michaelschauerphoto]

MICHAELSCHAUER.COM

[the-eternal-moonshine]

[literatelylovely]

[literatelylovely]

[literatelylovely]

She looked like the kind of woman I could fall in love with. Trouble is, she was standing next to the kind of woman I’d like to make love to. 


Jarod Kintz, This Book Has No Title

[hullocolin-deactivated20240427]

[lasplayaslasmontanas]

[schuylerpeck]

Grapefruit mornings and summer sundresses; the way the warmth washes over us in the grass. I am drinking the sky  and lacing my fingers through yours. My soul might finally know rest.

Schuyler Peck, Grapefruit and Sundresses (via schuylerpeck)

[adrasteiax]

Galaxies have fallen in my cupped hands I have drunk the stars…

Euripides, from The Bacchae (via adrasteiax)

[passioninspiration]

[wordsnquotes]

Perhaps if I make myself write I shall find out what is wrong with me.

Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

[luz-natural]

@berlin.1969

[literatelylovely]

[wordsnquotes]

I don’t get nearly enough credit in life for the things I manage not to say.

Meg Rosoff, How I Live Now  (via wordsnquotes)

[thelovejournals]

Why didn’t it happen between us? Why did I fail? Why did you come close enough… and not closer ?

Tennessee Williams, Summer and Smoke (via thelovejournals)

[purplebuddhaproject]

I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling.

Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums (via purplebuddhaproject)

[literatelylovely]

  Muir Woods, California