L'aurore des choses
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“Je ne vous comprendrai pas, mais je vous écouterai. Quand on entend les voix qu’on aime, on n’a pas besoin de comprendre les mots qu’elles disent.”

Victor Hugo,Les Misérables (via carnets—intimes)

“Introverts don’t get lonely if they don’t socialize with a lot of people, but we do get lonely if we don’t have intimate interactions on a regular basis.”

Sophia Dembling, The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World (Perigee Trade, 2012)

“I almost started believing in God
just so I had someone to talk to
about you.”

Caitlyn Siehl, Almost (via larmoyante)

519
theparisreview:

Cover art from the early 1900s.

You are like night, calmed,

constellated.

Your silence is star-like,

as distant, as true.

Pablo Neruda, “XV,” from Twenty Poems of Love (via afroui)

“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget.”

 Arundhati Roy (via berfrois)

“Do you want me to wrench myself around and tear myself in two because you can’t make up your mind? Because you won’t stay with anything?”

Ernest Hemingway, from The Garden Of Eden (via violentwavesofemotion)

“Both.
I want to stay.
I want to leave.
I am three oceans away from my soul.”

Nayyirah Waheed  (via the-writing-writer-wrote)

“I have so much to say to you that I am afraid I shall tell you nothing.”

Fyodor Dostoevsky  (via feuille-d-automne)

“I’d rather be a dark present than a dark future.”

Ernest Hemingway, from The Garden Of Eden (via violentwavesofemotion)

“How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?”

Don DeLillo, White Noise (via petrichour)

“I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.”

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby  (via petrichour)

148
noir-d-amour:

Elliott Erwitt, Jacksonville, Florida, 1968

“That’s why I’m not to be trusted.
Because a wound to the heart
is also a wound to the mind.”

Louise Gluck, From The Untrustworthy Speaker

428
whitechapelwitch:

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