I am free and that is why I am lost.
― Franz Kafka   (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: theunquotables)

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.
― Margaret Atwood, excerpt of Variation on the Word Sleep  (via forlornes)

(Source: camilla-macauley)

sadmusicforsadbastards:

"Sometimes all I really want to feel is love
Sometimes I’m angry that I feel so angry
Sometimes my feelings get in the way
Of what I really feel I needed to say”

But you are a poet and need not go into the fields to bring back flowers. Don’t complain about not having learned. There is nothing to know. Even what is called technical competence is not properly speaking knowledge, because it does not exist outside of the mysterious association of our memory and the skill acquired by our own inventiveness when it comes in contact with words. Knowledge, in the sense of a thing that is all done outside ourselves and that can be learned as in the sciences, counts for nothing in art. On the contrary, it is when the scientific connections between words have disappeared from our minds and have taken on a life in which the chemical elements are forgotten in a new individuality, that the technique, the skill that recognizes their antipathies, humors their wishes, knows their beauty, conveys their forms, assorts their affinities, can begin. And this exists only when a creature is a soul and no longer so much carbon, so much phosphorus, etc. So you love words, you don’t harm them, you play with them, you confide your secrets to them, you teach them how to paint, you teach them how to sing.
― Marcel Proust, from The Letters Of Marcel Proust (via violentwavesofemotion)
I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels. Life’s a bitch. You’ve got to go out and kick ass.
― Maya Angelou (via observando)
Our separation of each other is an optical illusion of consciousness.
Albert Einstein  (via violentwavesofemotion)