Love the ones who don't show love in return.

A human being with the eventual glimpse of knowlege.

Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn’t have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world. It doesn’t have to be a walk during which you’ll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but “steal” some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.

Albert Camus (via wendesgray)

(Source: hellanne, via erichalvorsen)

If I never see you again I will always carry you inside outside on my fingertips and at brain edges and in centers centers of what I am of what remains.

Charles Bukowski (via femme-ex-machina)

(Source: sleepinginthesnow, via thelandlockedmariner)

I’m almost never serious, and I’m always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I’m like a collection of paradoxes.

Ferdinand von Schrubentaufft  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: atomiclanterns, via thatkindofwoman)


Le petit soldat, Jean-Luc Godard, 1963

Le petit soldat, Jean-Luc Godard, 1963

(Source: cinemafrancais, via fuckyeahexistentialism)

I would rather die of passion than of boredom.

 Vincent Van Gogh  (via lillyfelizitas)

(Source: hellanne, via fuckyeahexistentialism)

(Source: littlestaryou, via appleday)

It seemed like you could know me. Like you could understand anything I told you. And the more we spoke, I knew why. The same things excited us. The same things concerned us.

Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: sadillite, via thatkindofwoman)

Love is a funny thing. You expect it to be easy. You expect it to be a world of roses and laughs and perfect moments that you find only in movies. You expect her to always say the right thing, and always know exactly how you feel, or exactly how to react to it. You expect her to calm you down when you’re yelling or to chase you when you run away. You expect so much that you feel entirely, and utterly defeated when something doesn’t exactly match up with all your plans. But that’s the thing. Love isn’t a plan. It doesn’t have a certain beginning and it certainly has no end or visible finish line to those deeply in it.

Love happens; it is so incredibly messy. People around you can’t comprehend why you do the things you do, or why you fight so hard for something that seems to cause you so much pain, because simply, they can’t see. They can’t see the invisible ring of insanity that surrounds you when you’re in love. It’s inconvenient and painful and devastating at times, but we can’t live without it. What you don’t learn is how hard love is. How much work it takes. How much of ourselves we have to put into it. How it isn’t worth it until we are complete and utter idiots about it.

Love isn’t her calming you down when you yell. It’s her yelling, just as loud, just as hard, right back at you, right in your face to wake you up and to keep you grounded. It isn’t her/him bringing you roses everyday or cute things that make your relationship appear more presentable.

It’s after a long fight, that drains the life and bones right out of you both, and yet her showing up at your door the next morning anyway. It’s not her saying all the right things or knowing exactly how to handle you. So no, it’s not her caressing your hair and telling you everything is going to be alright. It’s her standing there, admitting she’s just as scared as you are. You have to remember that with love, you’re not the only one involved. You’ve unknowingly put your life, your heart into the palms of another persons hands and said, here. Do what you will. Mash it into mince meat. Or forget I ever handed it to you. As long as you have it.

It makes us crazy. It makes reality invisible and it erases all the lines that we shouldn’t cross. Because love isn’t about fencing ourselves in; feeling safe, feeling sure about the future. It’s about scaring the shit out of every nerve in our body, but pushing forward anyway. Because all the fighting and all the tears and all the uncertainty is worth it. And it’s a hell of a lot better, than being 100% happy without someone to show us that there is a world of a difference between feeling ‘happy’ and feeling whole

Definition of Love - Andrew Landon

I firmly believe in small gestures: pay for their coffee, hold the door for strangers, over tip, smile or try to be kind even when you don’t feel like it, pay compliments, chase the kid’s runaway ball down the sidewalk and throw it back to him, try to be larger than you are— particularly when it’s difficult. People do notice, people appreciate. I appreciate it when it’s done to (for) me. Small gestures can be an effort, or actually go against our grain (“I’m not a big one for paying compliments…”), but the irony is that almost every time you make them, you feel better about yourself. For a moment life suddenly feels lighter, a bit more Gene Kelly dancing in the rain.

Jonathan Carroll  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: jonathancarroll.com, via thatkindofwoman)

Do you love yourself? I ask you this both seriously and sincerely. So do you? Are you proud of where you sit in this moment? Have you sacrificed to get here? Do you dance along to the music inside of you, or do you walk properly with the look and fear of the other? Do you direct yourself by your own volition and intuition, or do you travel down the conventional road safely in hand with man’s logic and arithmetic? These choices are for your choosing, but in order to have self-love, I believe you must have you; for how can you love what is not true? …Actually, and unfortunately, I know many people who do; for a while, until they eventually end up with so many selves they are attempting to be that they no longer know which one to love anymore. But I’m certain if you live in their world, you will never know yours—and what a shame that would be. The river of life is flowing inside of us all, but in order to ride its fiery rapids you must fully jump in and trust the energy that naturally drives you. You will not always be able to reason or rationalize your feelings and choices…well, you can try, or pay someone to try, but they will not fit into our neat and orderly worlds of convention. And why should they? Is our DNA not proof enough that we are all individuals with different make-ups? What I would like to tell you ladies and gentlemen, is your life is beyond two times two is four! So unleash the freak, jump in, become who you truly are, and live outside the borders of any normal. And don’t just open the doors, don’t just take off the hinges; tear down the entire structure! The Great Adventure is not an expedition, it is the journey through the slowly unfolding mystery of your true self; follow it—with no other goal than to burn, both hot blue and joyous red. Never forget what profound beauty and truth comes through our suffering; we must use it! Well-being through comfort and security cannot be our only goal, for that should be our last; it is death. We must do the deathless dance in the infinite cosmos! And we must always know that before you are truly capable of loving others, you must first love yourself. Learn to love yourself and the world will start turning into a better place. I believe a brighter world starts there.

Rex X (via rex-x)

cheers.

(via thefifthjohn)

(via thefifthjohn)

She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood.

Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things (via femme-ex-machina)

(via thelandlockedmariner)

Until we have seen someone’s darkness, we don’t really know who they are. Until we have forgiven someone’s darkness, we don’t really know what love is.

Marianne Williamson (via erraticintrovert)

(Source: onlinecounsellingcollege, via strawberryleaves)

(Source: graceleexo, via abigaillx)

Well, let it pass, he thought; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, ‘The Sensible Thing’ (via quotewhore)

(via thelandlockedmariner)