the word sanctuary
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)

barefootawareness:

There are so many fruits you haven’t tasted

so many beautiful songs you have not discovered

spices you’ve never heard of 

and intriguing conversations you haven’t had 

there are oceans you have not felt 

and plants you’ve never seen

books you’ve never read

and souls your heart has not touched

this Earth is incredible.

(via weaverofstars)

Let us look for secret things
somewhere in the world
on the blue shores of silence. by Pablo Neruda, from On the Blue Shores of Silence: Poems of the Sea (Rayo, 2004)

(Source: tumbleword, via si-trendafil)

She was a living reverie for me: the mere sight of her sparked an almost infinite range of fantasy, from Greek to Goth, from vulgar to divine. by Donna Tartt, The Secret History   (via mirroir)

(Source: kristenemorgs, via mirroir)

Never be in a hurry; do everything quietly and in a calm spirit. Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset. by Francis de Sales (via adelineania)

heavenlier:

“Understand, I’ll slip quietly away from the noisy crowd when I see the pale stars rising, blooming, over the oaks. I’ll pursue solitary pathways through the pale twilit meadows, with only this one dream: You come too.”

— Ranier Maria Rilke  (via petrichour)

(Source: deather-child, via mercurieux)

She burns with a nervous brightness that at times is unbearable to watch. Life itself is too treacherous for this woman to survive it…not because she is fragile, necessarily…but because she is sensitive. The world is not kind to its most sensitive members. And she is a master fantasist, escape artist, and pretender. She has to be. by Alexander Walker, on Vivien Leigh’s character in A Streetcar Named Desire (via violentwavesofemotion)
The urge to destroy is also a creative urge. by Pablo Picasso  (via mirroir)

(Source: hommestyling, via mirroir)

People so tired, mutilated either by love or no love by Charles Bukowski (via 13neighbors)

(via aurelle)

lachantefleurie:

"There were poisons there, you know."
"In that beautiful garden?"

— Michael Ondaatje, The Cat’s Table

(Source: theperfumemaker)

mesogeios:

“If you’re really listening, if you’re awake to the poignant beauty of the world, your heart breaks regularly. In fact, your heart is made to break; its purpose is to burst open again and again so that it can hold evermore wonders.” 

- Andrew Harvey

(via laurajdt)

Her eyes are classic novels and poetry. by Isaac Marion (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: rabbitinthemoon, via si-trendafil)

Beauty perishes in life, but is immortal in art. by Leonardo Da Vinci (via likeanoldstory)

(Source: paints-across-the-historyblog, via semper-femina)

What is interesting and important happens mostly in secret. by Michael Ondaatje, The Cat’s Table (via chanelhelena)

(Source: theperfumemaker, via la-femme-terrible)

theme