Not all those who wander are lost
Have the strength to be true to yourself even if you don't know who you are yet - Paulo Coelho
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moon dust in your lungs
stars in your eyes

you are a child of the cosmos
and ruler of the skies

for em (via trenzalours)

(via teddyluqin)

My mind vanishes
from time to time but never
do you from my mind.

Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)

(via tylerknott)

My Uncle Alex Vonnegut, an insurance salesman who lived at 5033 North Pennsylvania, taught me something very important. He said that when things are going really well we should be sure to notice it. He was talking about very simple occasions, not great victories. Maybe drinking lemonade under a shade tree, or smelling the aroma of a bakery, or fishing, or listening to music coming from a concert hall while standing in the dark outside, or, dare I say, after a kiss. He told me it was important at such times to say out loud, “If this isn’t nice, what is?”
Kurt Vonnegut (via indoor-exploration)

(via wherehappinesslives)

She belonged in libraries and book stores. She left her heart between the pages of her books.
— (via likearegularbookworm)

(via travelwithroses)

I remained too much inside my head and ended up losing my mind.
— Edgar Allan Poe, Complete Writings  (via revestis)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via florencings)

I love you, but I’m mad at you is one of the most freeing, important things you can say in a stable relationship. Does that make sense? To know that you have the ability and the right to be mad at someone and know that it doesn’t mean things are over, that it doesn’t mean things are irreparable. That it just means I’m mad, but God, I love you. I love you. Now leave me alone.
— To be good, to save nothing (via finedineonmyvegangenitalia)

(via loveyourchaos)

Will I be something?
Am I something?

And the answer comes:
You already are.
You always were.
And you still have time to be.

- Anis Mojgani


— happypeopledodrugs.tumblr.com (via happypeopledodrugs)

(via writingsforwinter)

A writer is a world trapped in a person.
— Victor Hugo (via dixonngreene)

(Source: maxkirin, via acciotardis)

Rain is good for romance. Walk through any city on a rainy day and you’re bound to see this: couples close and happy under a shared umbrella, one’s hand wrapped around the other’s on the handle. Or getting gloriously drenched together, usually grinning and soaking wet, the hell with an umbrella. Or head to head at small tables, sharing breakfast under dripping outdoor cafe awnings. Pretending they stopped here to keep out of the rain, but really using the excuse to sit close together and touch a lot. Others enter a store laughing, laughing at their wetness, delighted about everything. They don’t want to buy anything; they’re just using this dry place as an intermission. Or that happy older couple you see across the restaurant helping each other dry off. They’re chatting animatedly for the first time in days, comparing notes about walking hand in hand through the storm to get here. They’re both famished now. Something about walking in the rain. They’ll eat like champions. Days like these stay with you. A long time later you’ll ask— remember the crazy time we got caught in that storm? And her eyes will light up. Of course she remembers. Guaranteed. Rain is good for romance.
— Jonathan Carroll

(Source: medium.com, via modernhepburn)

The image of ourselves in the minds of others is the picture of a stranger we shall never see.
Elizabeth Bibesco (via misswallflower)