SomeThings.

“

A good night’s sleep helps you perform well in school, and so if you’re a student you should always get a good night’s sleep unless you have come to the good part of your book, and then you should stay up all night and let your schoolwork fall by the wayside.

— Lemony Snicket, The Austere Academy (via prettybooks)

(via noseinabook)

(Source: anditslove, via noseinabook)

“

From the garden rose the sound of bees
that lurched and wobbled through the peonies.
We ate eggs, French toast, drank milk that warmed
in minutes in the sun while fat drones swarmed
and looped like drunkards in the purple field.
On the porch we heard their bodies yield
to wills their fuzzy minds don’t understand.
They smelled the stains of syrup on your hand
and one, in gold-encrusted drunken strut,
smeared pollen from its mandibles and gut
along your wrist. That morning you had tied
your hair, and as you rose and ran inside,
it gently bounced, and loosed, and then unfurled.
If the next is better, I’ll still miss this world.

— Michael Lavers, Coda (via grammatolatry)

(via iamonlyamaid)

lilliesandremains:

Sailor kissing girl during blackout, Seattle WA (1941)

(via leopoldgursky)

fuckyeahreading:

(picture source unknown, anyone?)

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda

(Source: outwardblonde, via fuckyeahreading)

tylerknott:

I should add
that I
couldn’t possibly
have had difficulty
believing in
Love.

-Tyler Knott Gregson-

(Source: whatstheenpointe, via fuckyeahreading)

“

There aren’t shortcuts. Merely direct paths. Most people don’t take them, because they frighten us. Things that look like shortcuts are usually detours disguised as less work.

— Seth Godin (via ingwaybee)

(Source: quote-book)