wnderlst:

Ilulissat, Greenland | Gaaba Jensen


In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.
Isaac Marion, Warm Bodies (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: seabois)


It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living.
F. Scott Fitzgerald (via observando)


flower harvest





I hear the Accuser roar
Of sins that I have done.
I know them all and thousands more
But God remembers none

(via buttondownsandbackpacks)


eartheld:

mostly nature

There is dirt
under my fingernails
and tread marks
across my heart,
but
oh
if I could be saved
by anyone but myself
it would be you.
It is always you
with your unassuming
effervescent
you-ness.
My lungs collapse
at the thought
of you.
My skin sings
at the possibility
of being touched by you.

Michelle K., You and Your You-ness. (via michellekpoems)

I don’t know what’s the matter with me, why I’m so adept at distance, why I feel so remote from things, why life feels like a rumor.
David Shields, How Literature Saved My Life (via larmoyante)

You should be angry. You must not be bitter. Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. It doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure. So use that anger. You write it. You paint it. You dance it. You march it. You vote it. You do everything about it. You talk it. Never stop talking it.
Maya Angelou (via erkings)

Never go the bitter route in life. Bitterness is ugly.

(via imarainydaywoman)

(Source: winterinter)