The Things We Wrote

"One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple"- Jack Kerouac   

[the-things-we-once-wrote]

[the-things-we-once-wrote]

It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.

Krishnamurti   (via lakshmilotus)

[thelovejournals]

I used to build dreams about you.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Benediction (via thelovejournals)

[buttonpoetry]

Watch Hannah Dains perform the full poem, “Enough”.

[macrolit]

The closest bonds we will ever know are bonds of grief. The deepest community one of sorrow.

All the Pretty Horses, Cormac McCarthy (via macrolit)

[the-things-we-once-wrote]

Poems, like diamonds, are only formed under immense amount of pressure.

[themotivationjournals]

There’s nothing wrong with not understanding yourself.

Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (via themotivationjournals)

[themotivationjournals]

Love those who love you when you have nothing to offer but your company.

Anonymous   (via themotivationjournals)

[quotemadness]

If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.

Marcus Tullius Cicero (via quotemadness)

[the-things-we-once-wrote]

There are Ravens perched  on the edge of April, like soldiers guarding graves.

Yet how foolish to guard the dead, for I think they shall not wake, at least not at such late hour. 

But the Ravens still perch, on the edge of April, and I cannot say if they are for me.

[wordsnquotes]

If a poem hasn’t ripped apart your soul; you haven’t experienced poetry.

Edgar Allan Poe (via wordsnquotes)

[wordsnquotes]

I opened my mouth, almost said something. Almost. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I had. But I didn’t.

Khaled Hosseini,  The Kite Runner. (via wordsnquotes)

[fyp-philosophy]

People. People. Endless noise. And I am so tired. And I would like to sleep under trees; red ones, blue ones, swirling passionate ones.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov (via fyp-philosophy)

[buttonpoetry]

Sometimes I forget how hard it is to remember.

Loyce Gayo - “How We Forget” (CUPSI 2014)

[luthienne]

I can’t rest alone. For then I face an abyss, the abyss of my lucidity. For I see too much.

Anaïs Nin, from Nearer the Moon: The Previously Unpublished Unexpurgated Diary, 1937-1939 (via luthienne)

[wordsnquotes]

You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.

Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (via wordsnquotes)

[buttonpoetry]

If nothing else, prayer is a birdcall into an empty field.

Joanna Hoffman - “Prayer” (WoWPS 2014)