(Source: highmiranda, via -perfectnightmares)
And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
—Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via labyrintofpoetry)
(Source: larmoyante, via patternsinchaos)
The thrill-seeker and his fellow thrill-seekers, nicknamed the Moab Monkeys, traveled to Brazil to walk across the 328-foot-long Pedra da Gavea highline and BASE jump from city apartment buildings. Mosbaugh says these death-defying stunts help him accomplish his life’s purpose of ‘seeking better personal balance.’
(via jelllybean)
(via catacean)
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain …
—John Keats ”Ode to a Nightingale” (via mirroir)
(Source: madame-psychosis, via mirroir)
(Source: a--tout-le-monde, via herbgardening)
How beautiful is meeting someone by coincidence.
(Source: totafdak, via threextento8ms)
This is what it is to love an artist: The moon is always rising above your house. The houses of your neighbors look dull and lacking in moonlight. But he is always going away from you. Inside his head there is always something more beautiful.
—Sarah Ruhl, Eurydice (via avec-des-sentiments)
(Source: awritersruminations, via avec-des-sentiments)
(Source: msjordankay, via st0nerwitch)
