[aneverlastinghalloween]

[thcartierrug]

@tsapa.jpg

[paolo-streito-1264]

Flower Library. John Drysdale #photography.

[utwo]

Cabin by the sea

© Liz Carlson

[violetvibrations]

@ themindfulbutterflyy

[sundaynightfilms]

Le Genou de Claire, 1970

[growaglow]

[wakeningwoods]

underbaraclaras

[inksplit]

[imaginmation]

Large emotion

[poppypanache]

[hiddenshores]

… I am doing something I learned early to do, I am paying attention to small beauties, whatever I have—as if it were our duty to find things to love, to bind ourselves to this world.

Sharon Olds, from “Little Things" (via rozenstruikjes)

[luthienne]

This is the end, isn’t it? And you are here with me again, listening with me: the sea no longer torments me; the self I wished to be is the self I am.

Louise Glück, from Meadowlands  (via rozenstruikjes)

[luthienne]

…even when I don’t believe / there is a place in me / inaccessible to unbelief / a patch of wild grace

Anna Kamienska, from Astonishments: Selected Poems of Anna Kamienska; “Lack of Faith” (via luthienne)

[thelandofloveanddrownings]

[resistandfight]

I am always moving toward you. On my bad days, I say to myself: “then you.” Sure, this now. But then you.

from “Laugh Lines” in The Dogs I Have Kissed by Trista Mateer   (via floriental)

[oofpoetry]

The worst thing in the world can happen, but the next day the sun will come up. And you will eat your toast. And you will drink your tea.

Rhian Ellis, from After Life (via floriental)

[paolo-streito-1264]

Arthur Leipzig.  Coney Island Lovers, Brooklyn, New York, 1943.