may I never lose that terror that keeps me brave
Audre Lorde, The Black Unicorn: Poems, “Solstice” (via noorshirazie)
we're not kids anymore.

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★
styofa doing anything

Origami Around
cherry valley forever
Sade Olutola
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Jules of Nature
noise dept.
Xuebing Du
Mike Driver
Cosimo Galluzzi

pixel skylines
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

@theartofmadeline

shark vs the universe

JBB: An Artblog!

JVL

ellievsbear
seen from Türkiye

seen from Türkiye
seen from Finland

seen from Belgium
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Costa Rica
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@warzonetourism
may I never lose that terror that keeps me brave
Audre Lorde, The Black Unicorn: Poems, “Solstice” (via noorshirazie)
Josef Koudelka - Prague (1968)
My best friends have been killed. I have seen atrocities and have positive proof of wholesale murder. I have sat many times myself shaking in fear of death. I know how to hate – but the bombing I have seen here is the worst atrocity I have even seen. I love life and art and beauty – we all do if we are not sadists.
diaries of Bill Travers upon seeing Hiroshima after 1945.
Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh of Iran laying flowers at Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Arlington National Cemetery, Virginia, United States of America (October 30, 1951)
Rio de Janeiro
Night life in Mogadishu, Somalia 1980. Stumbled across this on twitter.
Tell her she is the noor of my eyes and the sultan of my heart.
Hosseini, Khaled - A Thousand Splendid Suns (via elusiveam)
They were smiling at each other as if this was the beginning of the world.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Love of the Last Tycoon (via tat-art)
there is a feel inside all of our heads. it must be destroyed.
And how odd it is to be haunted by someone that is still alive.
I Guess the Old You is a Ghost (#589: June 25, 2014)
An Iraqi boy selling oranges in Baghdad during the Gulf War, circa 1991.
I am all the time thinking about poetry and fiction and you.
Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West (via violentwavesofemotion)
… and love love is mostly ill-advised but always brave.
Yrsa Daley-Ward, from “artichokes,” bone (via lifeinpoetry)
She has lovely tragic and despairing expressions that wring my heart.
Simone de Beauvoir, from a letter to Jean-Paul Sartre (via violentwavesofemotion)
It was as if he had started tiny fires under her skin, tiny currents which kept her awake.
Anaïs Nin (via milkwolves)