in every little thing i can find amazement.

in every little thing i can find amazement.

[maureen2musings]

[eugenialoli]

“Unconscious Experiences“ by Eugenia Loli

Portfolio | Store | Instagram

[brooklynsul]

[nickythinkstoomuch-blog]

❤️

[808vibesss]

[hellyeahjustlikethat]

[thedesignerandthedecorator-blog]

[brokenhly]

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.”

— Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (via wordsnquotes)

[nickythinkstoomuch-blog]

@weheartit

[amargedom]

“I have a million things to talk to you about. A million things we have to talk about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning.”

— Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

[nickythinkstoomuch-blog]

— Bien sûr, dit le renard. Tu n’es encore pour moi qu’un petit garçon tout semblable à cent mille petits garçons. Et je n’ai pas besoin de toi. Et tu n’as pas besoin de moi non plus. Je ne suis pour toi qu’un renard semblable à cent mille renards. Mais, si tu m’apprivoises, nous aurons besoin l’un de l’autre. Tu seras pour moi unique au monde. Je serai pour toi unique au monde…

Le Petit Prince

[artdelivre]

La littérature, c’est l’amour, encore l’amour, toujours l’amour.

Jean d’Ormesson, Guide des égarés (via artdelivre)

[nemoanimus]

Quand une femme devient indifférente, vous saurez que vous l'avez perdu. Là, il n'y a ni colère, ni haine, ni amour surtout. Quand l'indifférence s'installe, plus de retour, pas de regrets. Le contraire de l'amour n'est pas la haine, mais l'indifférence.

Fiodor Dostoïevski (via nemoanimus)

<3

[misswallflower]

Fall

“Fall, falling, fallen. That’s the way the season Changes its tense in the long-haired maples That dot the road; the veiny hand-shaped leaves Redden on their branches (in a fiery competition With the final remaining cardinals) and then Begin to sidle and float through the air, at last Settling into colorful layers carpeting the ground. At twilight the light, too, is layered in the trees In a season of odd, dusky congruences—a scarlet tanager And the odor of burning leaves, a golden retriever Loping down the center of a wide street and the sun Setting behind smoke-filled trees in the distance, A gap opening up in the treetops and a bruised cloud Blamelessly filling the space with purples. Everything Changes and moves in the split second between summer’s Sprawling past and winter’s hard revision, one moment Pulling out of the station according to schedule, Another moment arriving on the next platform. It Happens almost like clockwork: the leaves drift away From their branches and gather slowly at our feet, Sliding over our ankles, and the season begins moving Around us even as its colorful weather moves us, Even as it pulls us into its dusty, twilit pockets. And every year there is a brief, startling moment When we pause in the middle of a long walk home and Suddenly feel something invisible and weightless Touching our shoulders, sweeping down from the air: It is the autumn wind pressing against our bodies; It is the changing light of fall falling on us.”

- Edward Hirsch

[wnq-writers]

The way your skin felt, your taste, your touch, love, I swear I began to melt.

Nicholas Browne, Haiku 78 of 365 (via wnq-writers)

[sheisrecovering]

[icanread]

[observando]

[nickythinkstoomuch-blog]

this is tender love hitting right straight into my heart, reaching a spot deep down