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May
22
2012
(Source: hipstersdontcare, via thereforeirock)
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May
8
2012- Permalink
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May
8
2012
Another beaut from the Society for Photographing Relics of Old London. I love the grating along the bottom of the building! This storefront was built around the 1680s.
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Photo: Shop in Brewer Street, Soho, ca.1878
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May
8
2012How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?
Don DeLillo (via mirroir)
(Source: seaofwisdom, via hericium)
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May
8if i was famous i’d just tour around the country without telling anyone and go to random college campuses late at night, and i’d wait until i saw one person walking by themselves and i’d walk behind them and put my hands over their eyes and say guess who and when they turned around it’d be me and they’d be like omg and then i’d say “no one will ever believe you” and i’d just sprint off into the moonlight
(Source: shavingryansprivates, via hericium)
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May
8
2012“He will come to death. An image of the splendor of the kings of men in glory, undimmed before the breaking of the world. But you, my daughter, you will linger on in darkness and in doubt. As night falling winter has come without a star. Here you will dwell, bound to you grief, under the fading trees, until all the world has changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent.
Arwen… there is nothing for you here, only death.” - Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers(via hericium)
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May
8
2012- Permalink
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May
4
2012
(via orionfalls)
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May
4
2012
(via orionfalls)
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May
4
2012I have wrapped myself round in my own personality again. How does it come about - these sudden, intense changes of view? Perhaps my life is unusually conscious: very vivid to me. But when I enter a complete world of its own, I realise that this is existing whether I exist or not; and so get bowled over.
Virginia Woolf, Diary Entry, 9 May 1926. (via lunaoki)
(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via lunaoki)
