“When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself.”
— Oscar Wilde (via thescentofthewild)
(Source: dailystendhalnitesaudade)
“You are a member of the only known species in this damn near infinite universe that can experience the unrivaled pleasures of a first kiss, giving birth, or eating a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. What is the immensity of Jupiter compared to the ability to feel the rush one experiences when falling in love, holding your newborn’s clutching fingers, or singing “Hey Jude” in the shower? Would anyone trade the sterile immortality of the heavens if it meant that one could be unable to appreciate the sunset, never savor the smell of the ocean, or be forbidden to play Halo 3?
The collection of memories you have, the kaleidoscope of every experience you have ever had; the good, the bad, and the hideous, make up an existence that approximately 0% of the universe will ever see repeated.
You, whose miniscule existence is confined to the blink of an eye; you, who are completely ignored by the universe, mean something to someone here — which makes your pathetic little life and all its silly problems, with all your foibles and flaws — more important and unique than whole planets, suns, galaxies in which no life ever existed at all.
Let the universe have its infinity. I’ll take my brief limited time here, and attempt to savor every moment of it. The universe can keep its size. I’ll take my puny life, destined soon to come to an end, and enjoy what I can, when I can. The universe has callous unrelenting forces; I’ll take my memories and emotions over strength any day.
”
— Ben Atwood, The Beauty of Insignificance (via madkao)
( Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. )
1 Peter 3:3-4
“I have no fear of losing you, for you aren’t an object of my property, or anyone else’s. I love you as you are, without attachment, without fears, without conditions, without egoism, trying not to absorb you. I love you freely because I love your freedom, as well as mine.”
— ~ Anthony de Mello (via starryyeyed)
(Source: textfromdog)
“Life is about doing things that don’t suck with people who don’t suck.”
— John Green (via loveyourchaos)
(Source: inboxfivewithenjolras)
The Way You Look When You Cross My Mind
I feel a little crazy when I think about you sometimes, because I know that if anyone were looking at me, it might seem strange to see a man grinning when he isn’t talking to anyone. I can’t help it though–-that perfect little shape the corners of your mouth form when you smile, it just gets me—well, it just gets me. And your eyes! They form these faultless upside-down crescents when you laugh! And the way you walk, it’s like no one’s looking even though I know that you’re precisely the kind of girl that made men’s sunglasses a necessity, because after all, we should only be so lucky to be allowed to look at you when you know it.
I know it sounds cliche, but really, how did your parents make you? I refuse to believe that such a simple, barbaric process could create a girl so wonderful, physicists and mathematicians and artists should spend their long hours looking for the process to duplicate you in your every aspect, because not even after a million times of seeing them, the corners of your mouth when you smile—well, they would just get me. All this searching for the meaning of life and the origin of the universe and this theory for this and that theory for that and it wouldn’t explain how you came to be so…
Perfect? Is that the word I’m looking for? No, it’s too plain. Alluring? No, not quite enough oomph. I could learn every language, speak every tongue, and never be able to come up with the sequence of characters to describe you in a word. The best I could hope for would be a sequence of words a thousand long maybe, and even that would seem insufficient. Even then, with a thousand words, how could I describe you, because if a thousand words forms a picture, and one picture of you would not be enough, how many words would it take to make a million pictures? Could I write that many? Absolutely not, but I’ll try to recreate you to the best of my ability. Here goes nothing.
You are like a poem like none the world has never read, a song written in shimmering glass along the shore of an ocean; interim beauty that would pass before my eyes with the slinking waves of water. You are vapor, untouchable and gorgeous, moving with the wind. I want to breathe you, take you into my lungs and hold my breath until there isn’t life left in me to keep you in. You are a dream that becomes a nightmare when my eyes open to a world that isn’t as beautiful as the one my mind could manufacture. You are the delicate fingerprints on the glass of my car that spell your name when late night conversation condenses into fog. You are, I guess I can only plainly say, perfect.
This is why I smile when I have no one to smile at. This is the way you look when you cross my mind.(via)
maroon pattern
(Source: sorakeem)
(Source: sorakeem)
(Source: synodik)
