Relationships are essentially spiritual messengers. They bring into our lives - and we into theirs - revelations about our own strengths and weaknesses. — Caroline Myss (via peartreestore)
Lovers find secret places
inside this violent world
where they make transactions
with beauty.
— Rumi (via observando)

(via sodapopnritalin)

I shall think of YOU
whenever I am most happy, whenever I am most sad, whenever I see a beautiful thing.
You are a burning lamp to me, a flame the wind cannot blow out, and I shall hold you ‘high’ in my hand against whatever darkness.
—  Edna St. Vincent Millay           ~ MEMORY ~ (via author-jpk)

(via mistressofmayham)

haughtyspirit:

I worship the sunBut your light attracts my gaze,I see only you.

haughtyspirit:

I worship the sun
But your light attracts my gaze,
I see only you.

(via mistressofmayham)

lesbiansilk:

Here Comes the Devil (2012) - Dana Dorel & Jessica Iris (IMDb) (part 1)

 favourite lesbian scenes 52/10,000 (INDEX)

(via lesbianlovewonderland)

lesbiansilk:

Concrete Blondes (2012) - Diora Baird & Samaire Armstrong (IMDb) (part 1)

 favourite lesbian scenes 65/10,000 (INDEX)

(via lesbianlovewonderland)

Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them: they can be injured by us, they can be wounded; they
know all our penitence, all our aching sense that their place is empty, all the kisses we bestow on the smallest relic of their presence.
— George Eliot  (via tedderette)
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
"The Second Coming" by William Butler Yeats (via allieinarden)
ragsofshadow:

I mentioned in an ask early this morning that I didn’t sleep last night and I have strange thoughts when I stay awake late. Well, with some poetic exaggeration, this is what I felt around 5:15 until the sunrise. I never thought that The Second Coming was a scary or foreboding poem, just that it was profound and quite interesting. This experience has changed my perspective slightly. Please do read the poem, though, it’s very good! Here’s a link to it.
In case you guys are wondering, under no circumstances do I believe in anything “supernatural.” But this feeling does come over me sometimes. I don’t really think it means anything, though.

You’re not alone… this same feeling comes over me.. Must be the Spiritus Mundi… i was reading Yeats poem this morning on no sleep too… Thinking about “the End.” .. you described it well… The residue of this vision and feeling is hard to shake… 

ragsofshadow:

I mentioned in an ask early this morning that I didn’t sleep last night and I have strange thoughts when I stay awake late. Well, with some poetic exaggeration, this is what I felt around 5:15 until the sunrise. I never thought that The Second Coming was a scary or foreboding poem, just that it was profound and quite interesting. This experience has changed my perspective slightly. Please do read the poem, though, it’s very good! Here’s a link to it.

In case you guys are wondering, under no circumstances do I believe in anything “supernatural.” But this feeling does come over me sometimes. I don’t really think it means anything, though.

You’re not alone… this same feeling comes over me.. Must be the Spiritus Mundi… i was reading Yeats poem this morning on no sleep too… Thinking about “the End.” .. you described it well… The residue of this vision and feeling is hard to shake… 

Album Art

literaryjukebox:

To be a good human is to have a kind of openness to the world, an ability to trust uncertain things beyond your own control, that can lead you to be shattered in very extreme circumstances for which you were not to blame. That says something very important about the ethical life: that it is based on a trust in the uncertainty, and on a willingness to be exposed. It’s based on being more like a plant than a jewel: something rather fragile, but whose very particular beauty is inseparable from that fragility.

Martha Nussbaum in Bill Moyer’s World of Ideas

Song: “Beauty of Uncertainty” by KT Tunstall

11:11am… perfection 

ArtistKT Tunstall
TitleBeauty Of Uncertainty
AlbumDrastic Fantastic