It’s amazing how a photograph can make you feel. I love this photo. I feel the love that they have for each other. Whether its a Mom and dad, Brother and sister or just two friends playing, I can feel something. And thats what true art and what real love is…It’s not when something looks perfect, but when it makes you feel something.
(Source: nevver, via whiteallium)
“I am irritated by my own writing. I am like a violinist whose ear is true, but whose fingers refuse to reproduce precisely the sound he hears within.”— Gustave Flaubert
(Source: quotemadness.com)
the man at the grocery store who’s facetiming his wife to make sure he gets the correct yogurt is the kind of man i want to marry
(Source: hipsterpostings, via jude-ks)
This is not an exaggeration. Your download speed would slow down to the point where Windows would make this kind of absurd estimate, and you’d sigh and leave the room for a while (because you couldn’t use the computer while it was doing this for fear it would crash and lose all your progress) and then you’d come back in 40 minutes and maybe it would now say 52 years or maybe it would say 3 minutes, who knew, not Windows.
(via lulu-a)
“ماعاد يعنيني أن يفهم أحد اختلافي أو حتى يتقبله، ليس يأساً بل لأني أدركت أن الفهم الذي أنشده عصي على الأقل الآن، وفي هذه اللحظة، ومادام عصياً فليس من الجيد أن أستنزف طاقاتي في استجلابه، لأن معظم الناس لا تفهم إلا ما تعرف، ويُربكها الإختلاف”— (via hazel–green)
(via diamonds-doe)
(Source: breathtakingdestinations, via jude-ks)
(Source: libertyninteriors)
“what is it about her?” they ask him.
“she strengthens my soul and softens my heart.” he says.
(via escapador)
(Source: geopsych, via existential-celestial)
“December stillness, teach me through your trees That loom along the west, one with the land, The veiled evangel of your mysteries. While nightfall, sad and spacious, on the down Deepens, and dusk embues me where I stand, With grave diminishings of green and brown, Speak, roofless Nature, your instinctive words; And let me learn your secret from the sky, Following a flock of steadfast-journeying birds In lone remote migration beating by. December stillness, crossed by twilight roads, Teach me to travel far and bear my loads.”— Siegfried Sassoon, “December Stillness”
(Source: botanize, via soleilglow)
(Source: blogmoderne, via shaiikha)
