grass swings in high

beautiful thought. manifest ourselves in the presence of others. that thin line.

1 week ago on January 23rd, 2012 at 7:57 pm | Permalink

belongingness:-Paper Towns by John Green

2 weeks ago on January 16th, 2012 at 11:33 pm | Permalink | Reblog from

4mbivalent:PRETTY VACANT 2 - Pluz Ultra Mag (by imnotkeithrichards)

2 weeks ago on January 15th, 2012 at 6:49 pm | Permalink | Reblog from

2 weeks ago on January 15th, 2012 at 6:33 pm | Permalink | Reblog from

adorable.

(Source: audreyhepburncomplex)

2 weeks ago on January 12th, 2012 at 8:34 pm | Permalink | Reblog from

allinak:

(Source: alwayswishingiwasgoodenough)

2 weeks ago on January 12th, 2012 at 7:30 pm | Permalink | Reblog from

1 month ago on January 2nd, 2012 at 2:31 am | Permalink | Reblog from

blindsideddd:(by James.Spencer)

1 month ago on January 2nd, 2012 at 2:15 am | Permalink | Reblog from

"The sea’s only gifts are harsh blows, and occasionally the chance to feel strong. Now I don’t know much about the sea, but I do know that that’s the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong. To measure yourself at least once. To find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions. Facing the blind death stone alone, with nothing to help you but your hands and your own head."

― Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild

1 month ago on December 29th, 2011 at 12:49 am | Permalink

1 month ago on December 27th, 2011 at 1:14 am | Permalink | Reblog from

rie-sato-paris:

1 month ago on December 27th, 2011 at 12:58 am | Permalink | Reblog from

I read somewhere… how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong… but to feel strong.

(Source: earlymourning)

1 month ago on December 27th, 2011 at 12:58 am | Permalink | Reblog from

bardsandsages:

Fitzgerald.

1 month ago on December 26th, 2011 at 10:15 pm | Permalink | Reblog from

"Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. there is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there."

Henry Miller (via skeletales)

1 month ago on December 26th, 2011 at 10:14 pm | Permalink | Reblog from

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