“

Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That’s part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that’s where I imagine it - there’s a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own private library.

Haruki Murakami 

(via 99lions)

Ah! dearest love, sweet home of all my fears And hopes and joys and panting miseries,— To-night, if I may guess, thy beauty wears A smile of such delight, As brilliant and as bright, As when with ravished, aching, vassal eyes, Lost in a soft amaze, I gaze, I gaze! 

Ah! dearest love, sweet home of all my fears
   And hopes and joys and panting miseries,—
To-night, if I may guess, thy beauty wears
         A smile of such delight,
         As brilliant and as bright,
   As when with ravished, aching, vassal eyes,
         Lost in a soft amaze,
         I gaze, I gaze!

(via loveyourchaos)

“

don’t ever hurt a writer because they will make their hurt into something so beautiful that you will never live the guilt down.

Kelsey Rakes 

(via -wwhiskers)

“

Now I must get back to working on a poem I have no hope for because it is important to keep writing even when you aren’t writing worth shit. There’s a lot of luck involved in being struck by lightning, so you you want to make sure you’re holding a pen when it happens.

Dean Young 

(via allmymetaphors)

“

I felt like I was sort of disappearing. It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing everytime you crossed a road.

J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye  

(via blua)