Not only do we exist in this universe, it is the universe itself that exists within us.
— Neil DeGrasse Tyson
I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.
— John Green
(Source: abimopector, via colbyjackcunt)
I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever, your leg my leg, your arm my arm, your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
— Charles Bukowski
(Source: astronautes, via colbyjackcunt)
(Source: topographe, via hamandheroin)
“I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you’ll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you’ll make something that didn’t exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.”
— Neil Gaiman
“May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.”
— Neil Gaiman
Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.
— Ray Bradbury Dandelion Wine
(Source: 24ribs, via loveyourchaos)
I didn’t learn until I was in college about all the other cultures, and I should have learned that in the first grade. A first grader should understand that his or her culture isn’t a rational invention; that there are thousands of other cultures and they all work pretty well; that all cultures function on faith rather than truth; that there are lots of alternatives to our own society. Cultural relativity is defensible and attractive. It’s also a source of hope. It means we don’t have to continue this way if we don’t like it.
— kurt vonnegut
“…but all the while Persephone knew how brief that beauty was; fruits, flowers, leaves, all the fair growth of earth, must end with the coming of the cold and pass like herself into the power of death. After the lord of the dark world carried her away she was never again the gay young creature who had played in the flowery meadow without a thought of care or trouble. She did indeed rise from the dead every spring, but she brought with her the memory of where she had come from; with all her bright beauty there was something strange and awesome about her. She was often said to be “the maiden whose name may not be spoken.”
edith hamilton. mythology.
Why I Read →
Reading, I do not tell my students, will startle their senses alive again by throwing open the world when their small, cluttered rooms have grown tight and stale.
Reading will lay a hand on their shoulders when they are homesick, or when their hearts have been broken, or when that C-minus seems like the greatest tragedy in the world.
Reading, I do not tell them, because they would not believe me, can keep you from cutting yourself, can keep you from suffocating in the quicksand of your self-absorbed despair.
Reading, I do not tell them, can turn on the lights in your darkness, can help you see yourself more clearly, can help you find yourself when you are lost.
Reading, I do not tell them, because this is something that cannot be taught but must be learned, can make you feel like not one lone cell stranded in the desolation of the world, but one of eight billion cells conjoined by the world, all hearts echoing the others in the song of one enormous heart.
Le awesome!
(via ilovepancakes89, informate)
