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January 25 2018

No, I don’t mean love, when I say patriotism. I mean fear. The fear of the other. And its expressions are political, not poetical: hate, rivalry, aggression.
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness (via quotespile)

January 18 2018

I wish to be water
so I can’t be held.
Chelsea Dingman, from “In the Months After We Come Home From the Hospital Empty-Handed” published in Gulf Coast (via lifeinpoetry)

January 15 2018

Only when we know little do we know anything. Doubt grows with knowledge.
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Maxims and Reflections (via philosophybits)

December 25 2017

7489 f4bc 500

loumargi:

Henri-Fantin-Latour, Roses de Nice on a Table, 1882

Reposted byDreamsMayCome DreamsMayCome
And, I understand, / the stars in the sky are already dead.
Nicole Sealey, from “medical history,” Ordinary Beast   (via weltenwellen)
Nothing means anything to me. Everything looks unfamiliar, not because I find it strange but because I don’t know what it is. The world is lost. And in the depths of my soul - the only reality of the moment - there is an intense, invisible pain, a sadness like the sound of someone weeping in a dark room.
— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
(via weltenwellen)

December 23 2017

Please come, and bathe me in serenity again.
Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West c. December 1926 (via violentwavesofemotion)
Reposted byDreamsMayCome DreamsMayCome

January 25 2018

No, I don’t mean love, when I say patriotism. I mean fear. The fear of the other. And its expressions are political, not poetical: hate, rivalry, aggression.
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness (via quotespile)

January 18 2018

I wish to be water
so I can’t be held.
Chelsea Dingman, from “In the Months After We Come Home From the Hospital Empty-Handed” published in Gulf Coast (via lifeinpoetry)

January 15 2018

Only when we know little do we know anything. Doubt grows with knowledge.
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Maxims and Reflections (via philosophybits)

December 25 2017

7489 f4bc 500

loumargi:

Henri-Fantin-Latour, Roses de Nice on a Table, 1882

Reposted byDreamsMayCome DreamsMayCome
And, I understand, / the stars in the sky are already dead.
Nicole Sealey, from “medical history,” Ordinary Beast   (via weltenwellen)
Nothing means anything to me. Everything looks unfamiliar, not because I find it strange but because I don’t know what it is. The world is lost. And in the depths of my soul - the only reality of the moment - there is an intense, invisible pain, a sadness like the sound of someone weeping in a dark room.
— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
(via weltenwellen)

January 25 2018

No, I don’t mean love, when I say patriotism. I mean fear. The fear of the other. And its expressions are political, not poetical: hate, rivalry, aggression.
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness (via quotespile)

January 18 2018

I wish to be water
so I can’t be held.
Chelsea Dingman, from “In the Months After We Come Home From the Hospital Empty-Handed” published in Gulf Coast (via lifeinpoetry)

January 15 2018

Only when we know little do we know anything. Doubt grows with knowledge.
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Maxims and Reflections (via philosophybits)

December 25 2017

7489 f4bc 500

loumargi:

Henri-Fantin-Latour, Roses de Nice on a Table, 1882

Reposted byDreamsMayCome DreamsMayCome
And, I understand, / the stars in the sky are already dead.
Nicole Sealey, from “medical history,” Ordinary Beast   (via weltenwellen)

January 15 2018

Only when we know little do we know anything. Doubt grows with knowledge.
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Maxims and Reflections (via philosophybits)

December 25 2017

7489 f4bc 500

loumargi:

Henri-Fantin-Latour, Roses de Nice on a Table, 1882

Reposted byDreamsMayCome DreamsMayCome
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