and here we have harry potter literally standing on a pile of letters to try and catch one that is still in the air. there are clearly reasons why he doesn’t get sorted into ravenclaw
(via fourloves)
I don’t know why they call it rape. To me it was murder. I was killed that day and I’ve had to drag death around in me ever since, a roaming greyness in my colourful interior, sometimes it’s my stomach that’s dead, sometimes my head, sometimes my intestines, often my heart.
—Yann Martel: Self
The other day, I cried. But you know what? Fuck that day. That’s why God, or whoever, makes other days.
(Source: liveitout)
(Source: pausesbetweenthought)
(Source: weheartit.com, via an-intelligible-world)
A life-long affair: Ernest Hemingway & his beloved cat named Boissy, photographed by Ken Heyman.
We see God and the devil making fools of each other, and we nurture in ourselves the absolutely unshakable conviction that both of them are drunk.
-Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening
The art we need is the art of bearing the unbearable. — Thomas Bernhard
and when everything’s in order I’ll lie down on my back again, warm my bones on the decay, and smile…
—Spring Awakening, Frank Wedekind (via kampfmude)
Le petit soldat, Jean-Luc Godard, 1963
(Source: cinemafrancais, via fuckyeahexistentialism)
Claude Monet » Water Lilies
(Source: detailsdetales, via man-of-prose)
I worry I broke your kneecaps when I cut you down. I keep hearing that sound.
The policeman asks, Why did I cut you down. The question abides in the present tense. Because I thought and still think maybe.
—Karen Green: Bough Down
(Source: austinkleon)
Mozart’s foster parents put cigarettes out in his ears
When he got old enough to stutter, he said
“I don’t listen but I-I-I, I can hear”
Benjamin Rush (1812). Medical Inquiries and Observations upon the Diseases of the Mind.
One of the more fanciful passages I’ve found that describes the creative upheaval associated with bipolar disorder. By-product of a morning spent revising the intro to my dissertation.
