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5:10 pm  2,612 notes

(via brntsienna)

“I firmly believe in small gestures: pay for their coffee, hold the door for strangers, over tip, smile or try to be kind even when you don’t feel like it, pay compliments, chase the kid’s runaway ball down the sidewalk and throw it back to him, try to be larger than you are— particularly when it’s difficult. People do notice, people appreciate. I appreciate it when it’s done to (for) me. Small gestures can be an effort, or actually go against our grain (“I’m not a big one for paying compliments…”), but the irony is that almost every time you make them, you feel better about yourself. For a moment life suddenly feels lighter, a bit more Gene Kelly dancing in the rain.”

— Jonathan Carroll  (via theremina)

(Source: quotethat, via backshelfpoet)

1:50 pm  54,813 notes

“Once you start to speak, people will yell at you. They will interrupt you, put you down and suggest it’s personal. And the world won’t end.
And the speaking will get easier and easier. And you will find you have fallen in love with your own vision, which you may never have realized you had. And you will lose some friends and lovers, and realize you don’t miss them. And new ones will find you and cherish you. And you will still flirt and paint your nails, dress up and party, because, as I think Emma Goldman said, “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.” And at last you’ll know with surpassing certainty that only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth. And that is not speaking.”

— Audre Lorde (via c-ovet)

(Source: quotes-shape-us, via c-ovet)

6:30 am  838 notes

Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor,
for the eternal idleness of the imagined return,
for rare flutes and bare feet, and the August bedroom
of tangled sheets and the Sunday salt, ah violin!

When I press summer dusks together, it is
a month of street accordions and sprinklers
laying the dust, small shadows running from me.

It is music opening and closing, Italia mia, on Bleecker,
ciao, Antonio, and the water-cries of children
tearing the rose-coloured sky in streams of paper;
it is dusk in the nostrils and the smell of water
down littered streets that lead you to no water,
and gathering islands and lemons in the mind.

There is the Hudson, like the sea aflame.
I would undress you in the summer heat,
and laugh and dry your damp flesh if you came.

Derek Walcott, "Bleecker Street, Summer" (via commovente)

(via lifeinpoetry)

2:19 pm  483 notes

2:06 pm  15 notes

Hair looks

stblasienstrasse:

She has such a stunning face.

1:36 pm  284 notes

stblasienstrasse:

She has such a stunning face.

(via yjns)

8:07 pm  3,824 notes

(Source: infinitive)

“I thought of her soft, beautiful eyes. When she looked at me something passed from her to me. But I knew it was over: If she looked at me now the look would stay in her eyes, it wouldn’t reach me. I was alone.”

— Jean-Paul Sartre, from The Wall (via violentwavesofemotion)

8:03 pm  461 notes

“When did we start kissing
with our mouths half open?
When did we start stepping over one other’s bodies
the morning after? Gathering our things and
slipping out the door like thieves? Like cowards?
When did the clouds grow silent?
When did every one of my pictures become
a before or after shot?
When did our pens start slipping?
When did letters start coming back unopened?
When did the ferris wheel stop with the
better lovers swinging their feet at the top,
the dirt at the bottoms of their shoes
falling into our hair?
When did the ferris wheel stop with us
still in reach of ground, still able to
pry the gate open and escape?
When did this become an apostrophe?
When did we become nothing
but a pause for breath?
When did our bodies grow pale, grow white,
and wave their own flags?
When did we start clawing at each other’s necks
and calling it love? Calling it close?
When did our stomachs cave in
and our legs give out?
When did someone else’s shoulder
start smelling of home?
When did someone else’s hands
start smelling of everything else?
When did every approaching footstep
stop sounding like yours?
When did the question mark of your hips
stop being the answer?
When did you stop being
the answer?”

21 Questions Ramna Safeer (via inkywings)

6:30 am  381 notes

petach:

浅見れいな

10:33 pm  5,164 notes

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