Where does discontent start? You are warm enough, but you shiver. You are fed, yet hunger gnaws you. You have been loved, but your yearning wanders in new fields. And to prod all these there’s time, the Bastard Time.

John Steinbeck, Sweet Thursday

(via violentwavesofemotion)

After all—to have loved, wasn’t that the object?
Love is the only thing in life
but then you can love too much
or the wrong way, you lose
yourself or you lose
the person
or you strangle each other
Maybe the object of love is
to have loved
greatly
at one time or another
Like a cinema trailer
watched long ago.

Adrienne Rich, from Transparencies

(via awkwardstrangers)

Listen to me, your body is not a temple. Temples can be destroyed and desecrated. Your body is a forest — thick canopies of maple trees and sweet scented wildflowers sprouting in the underwood. You will grow back, over and over, no matter how badly you are devastated.

Beau Taplin || T e m p l e s

(via a-thousand-words)

rubyetc:

today is the day of uncompromising truths I can write only in the context of stupid stick person

rubyetc:

today is the day of uncompromising truths I can write only in the context of stupid stick person

We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.

Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead

Twig Fox by Julianna Swaney

(via 01012012)

It’s very Peter Pan. A girl can be a lost boy, too. I don’t know how to do anything. I don’t know how to drive; I don’t know how to pay taxes; I don’t know how to keep a house; I don’t own any dishes.

Cat Marnell

(via cmnlu)

(via breakfastwithlilsatan)