July 2011
49 posts
5 tags
Jul 26th
2 notes
6 tags
Jul 26th
2 notes
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Jul 25th
14 notes
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““The job of the artist is not to succumb to despair but to find an...”
Jul 25th
4 notes
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Jul 25th
7 notes
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per·snick·et·y   
Jul 24th
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Jul 22nd
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The trick to not feeling cheated is to learn how to cheat. -Penelope, The Brothers Bloom
Jul 22nd
4 notes
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Jul 20th
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Jul 20th
1 note
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Jul 20th
2 notes
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“A gun gives you the body, not the bird.”
– Henry David Thoreau
Jul 20th
7 notes
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Jul 20th
2 notes
6 tags
Jul 20th
1 note
7 tags
Jul 20th
1 note
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Jul 20th
2 notes
6 tags
Jul 20th
2 notes
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Jul 18th
2 notes
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Jul 18th
6 notes
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To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy, one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness. -Sonja, from Woody Allen’s...
Jul 18th
4 notes
8 tags
But the thing that I saw in your face no power can disinherit: No bomb that ever burst shatters the crystal spirit. George Orwell
Jul 10th
6 notes
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Jul 10th
1 note
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Jul 10th
1 note
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A man is never lost at sea...
from The Old Man and The Sea by Ernest Hemingway
Jul 10th
9 notes
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Jul 10th
10 notes
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Jul 10th
2,693 notes
9 tags
Jul 10th
6 notes
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  The Heart is the Capital of the Mind - The Mind is a single State - The Heart and the Mind together make A single Continent - Emily Dickinson
Jul 10th
24 notes
3 tags
Jul 7th
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Jul 7th
6 notes
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Jul 5th
17 notes
8 tags
Jul 5th
1 note
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Jul 5th
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Jul 5th
4 notes
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Jul 5th
12 notes
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Jul 5th
7 notes
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Jul 4th
3 notes
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The sun touched warmly on her face, picking up the mirror she thought of a better time and place where the mirror was more kind reflecting only her youth and complexion so pure  Reflection of Time by Jo Sandes 
Jul 4th
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Jul 4th
1 note
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Jul 4th
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Jul 4th
2 notes
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But alone in the distant woods or fields, in unpretending sprout-lands or pastures tracked by rabbits, even in a bleak and, to most, cheerless day, like this, when a villager would be thinking of his inn, I come to myself, I once more feel myself grandly related, and that cold and solitude are friends of mine. Henry David Thoreau, from the Journal (January 7, 1857)
Jul 4th
3 notes
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Jul 4th
1 note
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Jul 3rd
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Jul 3rd
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Jul 2nd
6 notes
3 tags
Jul 2nd
3 tags
Love loves to love love.
- Cyclops, from Ulysses by James Joyce
Jul 2nd
1 note
4 tags
Jul 2nd