My cousin Helen, who is in her 90s now, was in the Warsaw ghetto during World War II. She and a bunch of the girls in the ghetto had to do sewing each day. And if you were found with a book, it was an automatic death penalty. She had gotten hold of a copy of ‘Gone With the Wind’, and she would take three or four hours out of her sleeping time each night to read. And then, during the hour or so when they were sewing the next day, she would tell them all the story. These girls were risking certain death for a story. And when she told me that story herself, it actually made what I do feel more important. Because giving people stories is not a luxury. It’s actually one of the things that you live and die for."
And you have fixed my life – however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me."
Wilfred Owen in a letter to Siegfried Sassoon, 5 November 1917 (via wilfredowen)
stop acting so small. you are the universe in ecstatic motion."
He [myself] easily envisions his fate in an age that has crossed out passion in order to serve science, in an age when an author who desires readers must be careful to write in such a way that his book can be conveniently skimmed during the after-dinner nap, must be careful to look and act like that polite gardener’s handyman in Adresseavisen [The Advertiser] who with hat in hand and good references from his most recent employer recommends himself to the esteemed public. He foresees his fate of being totally ignored; he has a terrible foreboding that the zealous critic will call him on the carpet many times. He dreads the even more terrible fate that some enterprising abstracter, a gobbler of paragraphs (who, in order to save science, is always willing to do the writing other what Trop magnanimously did with [his] The Destruction of the Human Race in order to “save good taste”), will cut him up into paragraphs and do so with the same inflexibility as the man who, in order to serve the science of punctuation, divided his discourse by counting out the words, fifty words to a period and thirty-five to a semicolon. Itemic ransacker: “This is not the system; it has not the least thing to do with the system and for the Danish shareholders in this omnibus, for it will hardly become a tower. I wish them all, each and every one, success and good fortune.”"
Johannes De Selentio. From Fear and Trembling by Søren Kierkegaard.
Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires."
William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act I, Scene VI (via ghostkings)
We’re only here briefly. And while I’m here, I want to allow myself joy. So fuck it."
Amy (Her, 2013)
When I look at you I sprout daisies and daffodils in my lungs.
You remind me that miracles come bundled up in summer dresses and sugar water smiles.
My voice still trembles when I try to tell you that you look beautiful,
Always you kiss me quick and I know that you forgive me for my awkward tendencies.
I don’t think they make me any better,
You make me better and you make me want to better than I already am.
We are not a mix of sugar and salt but spice and sweet.
And you’d think that we don’t exactly go together but it’ll just take some getting used to.
I’m still getting used to the idea that you haven’t left yet even after all my neurotic affects;
You told me, once, when we were too drunk to walk that
“Nothing about you is wrong to me.”
And I remember thinking how weirdly you worded it,
But I also remember that it sounded so beautifully constructed.
I know we’re just getting started,
I know we’ve just begun.
I told you that I have a tendency to burn and that I wouldn’t mind if you decided to run.
You told me,
“Baby, I like playing with matches.”"
"First Spark" - Nishat Ahmed
Really late on this request but here it is! (via sickwithsyllables)
If you’re gonna bail, bail early. This applies to relationships, college classes, and sledding,"
If it’s both terrifying and amazing then you should definitely pursue it."
Do you remember ‘books’? A book is basically thousands of tweets printed out and stapled together between pieces of cardboard."
The universe is vast. You are also vast. So is an ant. There are different sizes of infinity."
Welcome to Night Vale
Forget stardust—you are iron. Your blood is nothing but ferrous liquid. When you bleed, you reek of rust. It is iron that fills your heart and sits in your veins. And what is iron, really, unless it’s forged?
You are iron.
And you are strong."
"I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library." ― Jorge Luis Borges
So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.
I’m in love with people that are in love with the world."