I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.
by

Henry David Thoreau, Walden (via theliteraturemonster)

-I read this after watching Dead Poets Society and falling in love with the opening line. A truly eye-opening book.

(via skintandfuckingminted)

(via skintandfuckingminted)

I am a product of long corridors, empty sunlit rooms, upstairs indoor silences, attics explored in solitude, distant noises of gurgling cisterns and pipes, and the noise of wind under the tiles. Also, of endless books.
by C. S. Lewis (via girlinlondon)

(Source: amorette, via girlinlondon)

But where is this gathering?

I don’t know, my little angel

But do the others know?

No, they don’t know either

How can you go to a gathering without

knowing where it is?

It suffices to walk, just walk.

Those who are invited will find the way.
by Rumi

ohthevansanity:

“The broken locks were a warning
You got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded
I’m an open book instead
And I still see your reflection
Inside of my eyes
That are looking for purpose
They’re still looking for life”

If you make people think they’re thinking, they’ll love you. But if you really make them think, they’ll hate you.
by Don Marquis  (via blua)

(Source: obseo, via blua)

The appropriate response to reality is to go insane.
by Philip K. (via blua)