Can I Quote You On That? @th3auth0r-blog - Tumblr Blog

Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson; Break, Break, Break

#quotes #for a rainy day #poetry

“And thus came the first little bird. It was dark blue with gold markings on its wing and tail feathers, and its beak was black. It was perhaps two inches long from beak to tail and less than an inch wide. Its legs were folded against its body (tiny, thin legs), its gaze was wide, and it was warm and damp, and made barely audible sounds. The terror I had felt vanish without my noticing.” ~ Adda Djørup, Birds {translated from Danish by Martin Aitken}

#quote collection #birds #foreign writers

There are ghosts up there—the ghosts of Heaven—and they are calling to him, urging him to come and understand, and be damned.

Marcus Sedgwick, The Ghosts of Heaven

Duty, honor, country: Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be.

General Douglas MacArthur; Duty, Honor, Country

#quote collection #maptest #'murica

He amado hasta llegar a la locura, y eso que llaman locura,. para mí, es la única forma sensata de amar

Francoise Sagan

We're all damage, somehow.

Libba Bray, A Great and Terrible Beauty

#quote collection

Everything's profound when there's guns and zombies.

Richard Kadrey, Sandman Slim

#quote collection #true

Maybe... A MURDER

Maybe it was the timeless words in which she found her rescue. Maybe it was the countless sleepless nights full of the words of another and every wanton thought of how those fit together. Maybe it was the words she could over hear between lovers, simple, frightfully so, but at the same time holding more love and weight than she had ever felt. Maybe it was that she knew that life in itself was a book filled with words carefully chosen by the author to make it seem that maybe, if these words spoke loudly enough, the author, with his own book of life, wouldn’t feel as alone. Or maybe it was that she knew that the words wouldn’t lie to her, wouldn’t betray her, and they brought a stillness to her heart, the kind you get from security. It took so long to realize that these words were not her own and that they were slowly killing her, slowly taking away her ability to form her own words. By the time she did discover the wretched truth of her would-be savior—if not for the heartbreaking truth—it was too late. She was too far gone. Too dead. Maybe, it was the words…

cotton-punk

I need to follow some new blogs!

Hey guys dash is dead so like/reblog and I’ll follow your blog if you post:

Green Day

State Champs

Blink 182

Bring Me The Horizon

Paramore

Twenty One Pilots

Panic! At The Disco

All American Rejects

5 Seconds Of Summer

Arctic Monkeys

Nirvanna

The 1975

Marianas Trench

All Time Low

The Wonder Years

Fall Out Boy

Sleeping With Sirens

Boys Like Girls

30 Seconds To Mars

New Found Glory

You Me At Six

Man Overboard

Yellowcard

Tonight Alive

The Story So Far

Mayday Parade

Real Friends

Counterparts

The Ammity Affliction

The Killers

Brand New

Sum 41

Neck Deep

Pierce The Veil

My Chemical Romance

Muse

The Maine

Lorde

Linkin Park

Jimmy Eat World

A Day To Remember

Basement

La Dispute

Of Mice And Men

Citizen

Youth

Good Charlotte

whatahmesss-deactivated20150204

À lesson in Swedish. lol.

sawahbodien-deactivated20161031

This is actually spot on. It’s embarrassing how I always exclaim “Oj!” when I bump into someone because it basically means “whoops”. I’m really trying to stop doing that and start saying sorry instead…

Also, tagging invironment!

fairandcruel

Still more versatile than Finnish

th3auth0r-blog

Never thought stereotypes could be spot on... Then again, I shouldn’t be talking. Currently surrounded by the embodiment of the American stereotype...