Meg in Dc...

Oct 07 2011 ∞
“ Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people
I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives; some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
— Lyrics to “Everybody is free to wear sunscreen”
by Baz Luhrman

+ ∞
“ It is only because of problems that we grow mentally and spiritually
— M. Scott Peck

+ ∞
j-p-g: §§§§§§§§§ (via elen@c)

j-p-g:

§§§§§§§§§ (via elen@c)

43 notes

Jul 04 2011 ∞

Mar 03 2011 ∞

(via explosionsinthe-sky)

83,699 notes

Feb 26 2011 ∞

For every girl who has ever messed something up with a phenomenal man.

Feb 25 2011 ∞
“ To love a woman for her virtues is meaningless. She’s earned it, it’s a payment, not a gift. But to love her for her vices is a real gift, unearned and undeserved.
— Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand (1957)

(Source: carelesslifescenicworld)

5 notes

Feb 08 2011 ∞

The Rose in the Deeps of His Heart

All things uncomely and broken, 
all things worn-out and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway,
the creak of a lumbering cart,

The heavy steps of the ploughman,
splashing the wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms 
a rose in the deeps of my heart. 

The wrong of unshapely things 
is a wrong too great to be told; 
I hunger to build them anew 
and sit on a green knoll apart,

With the earth and the sky and the water,
remade, like a casket of gold 
For my dreams of your image that blossoms 
a rose in the deeps of my heart.

-William Butler Yeats.

Jan 10 2011 ∞
“

You have not known what you are—you have slumber’d upon yourself all
your life;
Your eye-lids have been the same as closed most of the time;
What you have done returns already in mockeries;
(Your thrift, knowledge, prayers, if they do not return in mockeries,
what is their return?)

The mockeries are not you;
Underneath them, and within them, I see you lurk
— Walt Whitman

Dec 13 2010 ∞
“

VII.

WITH A FLOWER.


I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too —
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.
— Emily Dickinson

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