"There’s too much lime in the world and not enough gin."
— Frank O’Hara (via apoetreflects)
"Do I really know nature? Do I know myself?—No more words. I bury the dead in my belly."
— Arthur Rimbaud, A Season in Hell (via dialoghost)
"i want to ask
everyone i meet,
what do you read
when you are in love,
and, what do you read when
they do not love you back?"
— Pavana पवन (via maza-dohta)
All I want is some justice and a sort of equilibrium. I’m not a libra, but my mother is. And I’m a fond of my mother.
I have seen your mouth transfigured
By the fragments of ancient fevers.
It was a wild, strange sound.
I have heard the wind in white cedars
And black poplars.
It was the colour of wet narcissus.
I have tasted the petals of acanthus
And Thessalian iris.
They were but circles of salt.
— Bethany van Rijswijk, from ‘Opium-eater’ (via elucipher)
(Source: talisman, via fables-of-the-reconstruction)
"There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There’s .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I’m likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful."
— John Green, The Fault in Our Stars (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)