the word sanctuary
Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping… waiting… and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir… open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us… guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love… the clarity of hatred… the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we’d know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we’d be truly dead. by Joss Whedon (via seabois)

(via seabois)

The mind self-edits. The mind airbrushes. It’s a different thing to be inside a body than outside. From outside, you can look, inspect, compare. From inside there is no comparison. by Jeffrey Eugenides || Middlesex (via socratic-thinker)

(Source: wordsnquotes.com, via bluescreenedlife)

lachantefleurie:

“What moon will gather up
your sorrow of lime and oleander?”

— Federico García Lorca, Collected Poems

(Source: theperfumemaker, via mercurieux)

A tragedy, when a mature mind and a romantic heart are in the same body. by (via lovely—delight)

(Source: nizariat, via lovely--delight)

There are a few things in life so beautiful they hurt: swimming in the ocean while it rains, reading alone in empty libraries, the sea of stars that appear when you’re miles away from the neon lights of the city, bars after 2am, walking in the wilderness, all the phases of the moon, the things we do not know about the universe, and you. by Beau Taplin || and you.  (via seulray)

(Source: afadthatlastsforever, via ladygoldenhair)

We are mosaics. Pieces of light, love, history, stars… Glued together with magic and music and words. by Anita Krizzan  (via lovely—delight)

(Source: quotethat, via lovely--delight)

The cure for anything is salt water - tears, sweat, or the sea. by  Isak Dinesen, Seven Gothic Tales (via uniquecole)

(Source: sad-plath, via ephemeralsentience)

I can’t feel a thing; All mournful petal storms are dancing inside the very private spring of my head. by Franz Kafka to Milena (via tincangirl)

(Source: whyallcaps.us, via tincangirl)

Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody. by J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye  (via loveless-people)

(via co-rals)

I’d woken up early, and I took a long time getting ready to exist. by The Book of Disquiet (Fernando Pessoa)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via digressionsofsymmetry)

Lips dressed
in droplets of
rosewater and
honey, jasmine-
scented locks the
color of nightfall
brushing against
porcelain skin;

he found
himself in an
unforeseen
heaven. by Noor Shirazie  (via lovely—delight)

(via lovely--delight)

Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee affords. by Richard Brautigan (via whyallcaps)

(via vitrina)

(Source: gnossienne, via finsdautomne)

Sometimes, I sit alone under the stars
and think of the galaxies inside my
heart, and truly wonder if anyone will
ever want to make sense of all that
I am. by Christopher Poindexter  (via adieufranz)

(Source: larmoyante, via adieufranz)

gorimbaud:

rainer maria rilke - letters to a young poeti bought this today. it’s hard to find a finnish edition these days.

gorimbaud:

rainer maria rilke - letters to a young poet

i bought this today. it’s hard to find a finnish edition these days.

(via rosenere)

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