“If we weren’t meant to give things another try, our paths and thoughts would not keep crossing, and we would not keep tripping over our feelings for each other.”
— (via lepetitmort)
Reblogged from ethereal synapse.
October 18, 2009, 3:04pm
golden flower.
a blog for quotes found by neelymarie.tumblr.com. all credit is preserved - if not, or it's miscredited, please let me know!
Designed by Redfield. Icons by Cameron Hunt.
Reblogged from ethereal synapse.
“…if you’ve been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you - you will know that there comes, in the end, a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing is ever going to happen again.”
Reblogged from apologies.
October 18, 2009, 3:01pm
“How hard it is to escape from places. However carefully one goes they hold you—you leave little bits of yourself fluttering on the fences—little rags and shreds of your very life.”
— Katherine Mansfield (via lepetitmort)
Reblogged from ethereal synapse.
October 18, 2009, 3:00pm
“What is laid down, ordered, factual is never enough to embrace the whole truth: life always spills over the rim of every cup.”
— Boris Pasternak (via lepetitmort)
Reblogged from ethereal synapse.
October 18, 2009, 3:00pm
“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”
— Joan Didion, The White Album (via treee) (via symbiosis) (via honeyhands)
Reblogged from crystallized in cloud.
October 18, 2009, 2:57pm
“In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they’re still beautiful.”
— Alice Walker (via libraries) (via symbiosis) (via honeyhands)
Reblogged from crystallized in cloud.
October 18, 2009, 2:57pm
“Missing someone isn’t about how long it has been since you have seen them or the amount of time since you’ve talked. It’s about that very moment when you’re doing something and you wish that they were right there with you.”
— unknown.
Reblogged from aconybell..
October 18, 2009, 2:48pm
“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”
— Joan Didion, The White Album (via treee) (via symbiosis) (via honeyhands)
Reblogged from crystallized in cloud.
October 17, 2009, 9:29pm
Literary Last Words
Often apocryphal or outright fabricated, but always intriguing. Culled from various places by yours truly.
- I don’t know. [Peter Abelard (1079-1142); French philosopher and theologian.]
- Is it not meningitis? [Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888), American novelist, died from mercury poisoning (complications from calomel used to treat an earlier bout of typhoid fever.)]
- I’m bored. I’m bored. [Gabriele D’Annunzo (1863-1938) Italian poet, novelist, playwright, died of a stroke.]
- Nothing, but death. [Jane Austen (1775-1817), English novelist, when asked by her sister, Cassandra, if there was anything she wanted. Died from Addison’s disease.]
- Take courage, Charlotte, take courage. [Anne Brontë (1820-1849), English novelist and poet, died of pulmonary tuberculosis.]
- If you will send for a doctor, I will see him now. [Emily Jane Brontë (1818-1848), English novelist and poet, died of tuberculosis.]
- Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight. [Lord Byron (1788-1824), British poet, died from fever contracted in Greece.]
- So this is Death—well— [Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881), Scottish writer and essayist.]
- Good-bye, everybody. [Hart Crane (1899-1932), American poet, right before jumping overboard into the Gulf of Mexico.]
- Let us go in; the fog is rising. [Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), American poet, died of Bright’s disease.]
- More light! [Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832), German writer.]
- Write…write…pencil…paper. [Heinrich Heine (1797-1856) German poet, died from chronic lead poisoning.]
- On the contrary! [Henrik Ibsen (1828-1906), Norwegian playwright, died from a series of strokes. His quote was said in response to a nurse who said he seemed to be improving.]
- Well, I must arrange my pillows for another weary night! When will this end? [Washington Irving (1783-1859), American author, died from a heart attack in his bedroom.]
- Does nobody understand? [James Joyce (1882-1941), Irish author, playwright and poet, died from complications of surgery for a perforated ulcer.]
- Go on, get out—last words are for fools who haven’t said enough. [Karl Marx (1818-1883), German philosopher.]
- Human life is limited; but I would like to live forever. [Yukio Mishima (1925-1970), Japanese novelist, committed seppuku after a failed attempt at a coup d’etat restoring the powers of the emperor.]
- It has all been most interesting. [Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1689-1762), English writer.]
- Put that bloody cigarette out. [H.H. Munro aka Saki (1870-1916), British writer, killed suddenly in WWI by a sniper’s bullet.]
- Born in a hotel room—and God damn it—died in a hotel room. [Eugene O’Neill (1888-1953), American dramatist, died from complications of depression, alcoholism and cerebellar cortical atrophy.]
- Lord help my poor soul. [Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), American writer and poet, died from unknown causes after collapsing in the street.]
- Moose. Indian. [Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), American author and poet, died from tuberculosis.]
- Go away. I’m all right. [H.G. Wells (1866-1946), English author, died of complications from diabetes or liver cancer.]
- Either that wallpaper goes, or I do. [Oscar Wilde (1854-1900), Irish playwright, poet and author, died from cerebral meningitis.]
Reblogged from On the Borderland.
October 17, 2009, 8:27pm
“Sarcasm and compassion are two of the qualities
that make life on earth tolerable”
— Nick Hornby (via thechocolatebrigade)
Reblogged from Sick Sad World..
October 17, 2009, 8:26pm
