Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.
—C.S. Lewis (via toujoursattendre)
(Source: victoriaaa94)
(Source: peaceloveandbiba)
(Source: maxenia)
That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
—William Wordsworth
Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.
—Pablo Picasso
(via sariitasilvaa)
the trouble with a mask is it
never changes.
So rude the flowers that grow and do not grow beautiful.
So magic the chair on the patio that does not hold legs
and belly and arm and neck and mouth that bites into the
wind like the ned of a tunnel.
He turned in bed and thought: I am searching for some
segment in the air. It floats about the peoples heads.
When it rains on the trees it sits between the branches
warmer and more blood-real than the dove.
He burned away in his sleep.
—charles bukowski
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
(Source: caseyweldon)
