Where do the words go when we have said them?– Margaret Atwood, from ”The Small Cabin” (via the-final-sentence)
urbanyogagirl: Morning #yoga
Peculiar Pub in East Village Five course Thanksgiving dinner w/ free wine Karaoke in West Village Macy’s at midnight in Herald Sq Black Friday Shopping and late lunch in Soho Korean food in midtown Clubbing in meatpacking Bar at St Marks Shopping and street food in midtown Walking and Sitting in Central Park, eating Magnolia Cafe cheesecakes Sitting on the steps of Times Sq Indian...
It is the happy heart that breaks.– Sara Teasdale
what's the big difference anyway?
V: Good luck
May the force be with you
Me: *makes star trek sign
V: STAR WARS
The heart asks more than life can give, When that is learned,...– Sara Teasdale, from “Moonlight” (via the-final-sentence) I love her poetry, they read like lullabies.
I will meet you on the nape of your neck one day, on the surface of intention,...– Luke Davies, from “[In the yellow time of pollen]” (via proustitute)
red plastic cups
http://thetwink1e.blogspot.com/ Sometimes I find myself longing for sparkling good times that belong to the other side of the spectrum. It was a club I couldn’t crack into for a long time. In college, I did. In my giddiness, I soaked up the parties, all parties, all parties with stale beer stained air, laced with over-applied cologne and smoke from amateurishly lit cigarettes. Strobe ...
Death is the side of life that is turned away from us and not illuminated. …– Rainer Maria Rilke, from a letter to Witold Hulewicz dated 13 November 1925, translated by Stephen Mitchell in Duino Elegies (via proustitute) I like the idea that it’s the dark side of the moon, and not just a space vacuum, it’s a nice thought.
The Sick Rose O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm, Has found out they bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does they life destroy. is this about sex? just wondering
… you slide across my mouth midway through the words I address to you, shadow,...– Paul Celan, from Schneepart in Poems, trans. Michael Hamburger (via proustitute)
It seems to me that what people call the beauty of a face is constituted by its...– Leo Tolstoy, Childhood. (via mills)