forestmilk:

by Vincent Pontillo

forestmilk:

by Vincent Pontillo

// Doomsday. //

That day when everything you thought was defined as the truth. 

Tonight I think
no poetry
will serve
Adrienne Rich, from “Tonight No Poetry Will Serve” (via proustitute)
Usually we walk around constantly believing ourselves. “I’m okay” we say. “I’m alright”. But sometimes the truth arrives on you and you can’t get it off. That’s when you realize that sometimes it isn’t even an answer—it’s a question. Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief (via yrie)

(via thenakedbrowneye)

You’ve already said too much. 

(Source: cloudfather)

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Marianne Williamson (via leslieseuffert)

(via thenakedbrowneye)

The first movement is singing,
A free voice, filling mountains and valleys.
The first movement is joy,
But it is taken away.
Czeslaw Milosz, from “The Poor Poet” (via proustitute)
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