gracie abrams
todays bird
The Stonewall Inn
Cosimo Galluzzi
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
Mike Driver
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
official daine visual archive
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Not today Justin
Monterey Bay Aquarium
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Kiana Khansmith
shark vs the universe
#extradirty
The Bowery Presents
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RMH
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seen from Malaysia
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@verbal-betrayal
She tried her hand at being a charwoman, a skivvy, a maid with a little white hat opening doors, but she could not manage the little curtsy that is required and her mother said, You don't have the knack for it. You're pure useless. Why don't you go to America where there's room for all sorts of uselessness? I'll give you the fare.
Angela's Ashes, Frank McCourt
“Humanity takes itself too seriously. It is the world’s original sin. If the caveman had known how to laugh, history would have been different.”
— Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
He was healthier than the rest of us, but when you listened with the stethoscope you could hear the tears bubbling inside his heart.
Chronicle of a Death Foretold, Gabriel García Márquez
The End begins before you are ever aware of it. It passes as ordinary.
Ling Ma, Severance (via quotespile)
“Do what you can, being what you are, shine like a glowworm if you can’t like a star, work like a pulley if you can’t like a crane, grease the wheels thoroughly if you can’t drive the train.”
Sir Henry William Forster, The letter is a reply to American Seymour Halpern, who was seeking advice on how to achieve a successful life. Forster’s advice included a quote from an anonymous message written in chalk on a railway yard wall that he read as a young man
God forgive me, I was sorry to hear that Sir W Pens maid Betty was gone away yesterday, for I was in hopes to have had a bout with her before she had gone, she being very pretty. I have also a mind to my own wench, but I dare not, for fear she should prove honest and refuse and then tell my wife.
Samuel Pepys, The Diary of Samuel Pepys
ESTRAGON: Don’t touch me! Don’t question me! Don’t speak to me! Stay with me! VLADIMIR: Did I ever leave you? ESTRAGON: You let me go.
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
It’s a terrible thing, isn’t it, the way we throw people away?
Kate Morton (via quotemadness)
—I want to change: I want to stop fear’s subtle / guidance of my life—
Frank Bidart, Half-light: Collected Poems; “California Plush”
Do you remember what you said to me once? That you could help me only by loving me? Well, you did love me for a moment; and it helped me. It has always helped me.
Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth
Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.
Sylvia Plath
And I realize that no matter where I am, whether in a little room full of thought, or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, it’s all in my mind.
Jack Kerouac
and if you wanted to drown you could, but you don’t because finally after all this struggle and all these years you simply don’t want to any more you’ve simply had enough of drowning and you want to live and you want to love
THE TRUELOVE, David Whyte
Wen you fink abowt some 1 all the time and you cant see them its bad. Wen you got noffing els 2 do its worse.
Robert Swindells, Daz 4 Zoe
In Heaven, Some little blades of grass Stood before God. “What did you do?” Then all save one of the little blades Began eagerly to relate The merits of their lives. This one stayed a small way behind Ashamed. Presently God said: “And what did you do?” The little blade answered: “Oh, my lord, “Memory is bitter to me “For if I did good deeds “I know not of them.” Then God in all His splendor Arose from His throne. “Oh, best little blade of grass,” He said.
Stephen Crane, In heaven
I leave you, Doctor, feeling more indebted to you than to any man ever before. Ordinarily, leavetaking is acompanied by denials of the permanence of the event: people say 'Auf Wiedersehen' - until we meet again. They are quick to plan for reunions and then, even more quickly, forget their resolutions. I am not one of those. I prefer the truth - which is we shall almost certainly never meet again.
Irvin D. Yalom, When Nietzsche Wept: A Novel of Obsession
The joy of being observed ran so deep that Breuer believed the real pain of old age, bereavement, outliving one’s friends, was the absence of scrutiny—the horror of living an unobserved life.
Irvin D. Yalom, When Nietzsche Wept
