mythologyofblue:

“When we love something, isn’t it as if we have grown hands especially to hold it?”

— Catie Rosemurgy, from “Miss Peach Gets Lucky,” The Stranger Manual (via lifeinpoetry)

weltenwellen:

Euripides, tr. by Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides

nemfrog:

Smiling sun face. East o’ the sun and west o’ the moon. 1924. Endpaper detail.

Internet Archive

kosmogrl:

hello everyone let’s stop looking back and wondering if things could have been different, it’s never gonna happen! love you

homewithmycats:

leonardospoetry:

And if someday 
the uncertainty of this world 
becomes too overwhelming, 
I hope you remember 
that some mysteries 
aren’t meant to be solved, 
they’re meant 
to be lived.

sweatermuppet:

from ought by molly brodak, published in a little middle of the night

[Text ID: well… define hurt. Because I can’t tell if I’m dull to it or if it is just everywhere. /End ID]

girltomripley:

— DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THE GIRL WHO LIVES IN DELUSION?

petaltexturedskies:

June, July, August. Every day, we hear their laughter. I think of the painting by van Gogh, the man in the chair. Everything wrong, and nowhere to go. His hands over his eyes.

August by Mary Oliver