tori b

the sweetness of healing

[samxcamargo]

Book: The Pain of Healing 💛

[feral-ballad]

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “What I couldn’t explain via text”

[Text ID: “I still don’t know how / to love someone / without swallowing them.”]

[latibule-e-deactivated20231012]

— Clarice Lispector, from “The Stream of Life.”

[flowerytale]

Susan Sontag, from “Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963″

[feral-ballad]

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Concerns from a hot-boxed jeep”

[Text ID: “How do I stop / carrying everything / that had ever / happened to me?”]

[ilostgatsby]

“I talk to God but the sky is empty.”

— Sylvia Path

[quotefeeling]

“if you cannot forgive, then don’t. you do not owe pain anything, you only owe yourself peace.”

— shelby leigh

[fairydrowning]

Grief comes in different waves at different times. It comes when you see something related to that person/thing. Sudden waves of grief hits you while you are driving or just taking a quick shower. You will miss and then grief over that person/thing forever and that's why it's known as the last act of love.

[fairydrowning]

"You know, love doesn't mean "l never want you to change." But I don't think it means "I don't care if you change" either. So I suppose it might mean, "I believe that you'll always be the person I adore." A declaration of faith, perhaps."

– Sayaka Saeki, やがて君になる (Bloom into You), Via "freckled-lili" on Tumblr

[repent]

“Maybe the courage I need has nothing to do with telling the truth and everything to do with walking away.”

— “The Girl on the Train” by Paula Hawkins (via suspend)

[voiceofnature]

Mushroom landart by Jill Bliss

[stckwll]

[gulistan-blog]

㋡🥀

peaceful..

[quotefeeling]

“No, I’m not ok. But I haven’t been ok since I was 11, maybe 12. I am still here though. I’m still breathing. For me, sometimes, that will have to be enough.”

— Clementine von Radics

[linkinmoon]

Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka

[sunny-vi]

And my god, is my soul empty

So many cups I’ve poured from,

So many cups I’ve emptied.

What is left,

What is left but my own sinking reflection.

I see you, I see you

But god, does it look empty.

-Victoria Bradley, Half empty

[kaalbela]

Stained glass windows by Louis Comfort Tifanny