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2 days ago with 10,353 notes
'Life is so dreadful,' she murmurs, but she does not feel it's dreadful at all. He says something about 'waiting' and 'marking time' and 'that rare thing, a woman', but she does not hear. It is so comfortable… for ever…

Katherine Mansfield, “The Wind Blows” (via robcam-wfu)

3 days ago with 5 notes

5 days ago with 6,464 notes
My blood is alive with many voices
telling me I am made of longing.

Rainer Maria Rilke, The Book Of Hours (via easymomentsandobsession)

5 days ago with 1,786 notes
explore-blog:

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry on how a smile saved his life during the Spanish Civil War – an exquisite meditation on our shared humanity, and one of the most soul-stirring things I’ve ever read.
Making things is so human that psychology and philosophy have gotten nowhere in trying to account for it.
6 days ago with 259 notes
theparisreview:

                        five years old,he sees more than he knows, but likes the mysteryof fondness, and the nothing in his dream
that might be everything he cannot telland might be what it seems: that private gameof making good, and owing no one nothing.
—John Burnside, from “Nothing.”Photography: Kin Chan.
explore-blog:

Maurice Sendak’s Chicken Soup with Rice, one of Dinah Fried’s brilliant Fictitious Dishes – meals from beloved books, which she cooks, art-directs, and photographs. 
snowqueens:

when this gets to 100,000 can i put it on my resume

godspeed che
gregorygalloway:

Samuel Beckett (13 April 1906 – 22 December 1989), in Paris, 1964
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