Even those little things i wish it didn't.

What’s the worst thing I’ve stolen? Probably little pieces of other people’s lives. Where I’ve either wasted their time or hurt them in some way. That’s the worst thing you can steal, the time of other people. You just can’t get that back.

Chester Bennington

(via lipstheshore)


― Submarine (2010)Jordana: I noticed the way you light a match. The flame is the same shape as a falling tear.

Joao Canziani

Do not whine… Do not complain. Work harder. Spend more time alone.

Joan Didion, Blue Nights 

(via avoke)


― Candy (2006)"Sometimes I hate you…"

"It’s not my job to make you feel good about yourself anymore."

When a condition or a problem becomes too great, humans have the protection of not thinking about it. But it goes inward and minces up with a lot of other things already there and what comes out is discontent and uneasiness, guilt and a compulsion to get something—anything—before it is all gone.

John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent (via anamorphosis-and-isolate)

― Into the Wild (2007)Chris: Some people feel like they don’t deserve love. They walk away quietly into empty spaces, trying to close the gaps to the past.

Anamorphosis and Isolate: Photo | via Tumblr on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/63892435/via/Luvison_Giulliaa?utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=image_share&utm_source=tumblr

“Because sending a letter is the next best thing to showing up personally at someone’s door. Ink from your pen touches the stationary, your fingers touch the paper, your saliva seals the envelope, your scent graces the paper. Something tangible from your world travels through machines and hands, and deposits itself in another’s mailbox; their world. Your letter is then carried inside as an invited guest. The paper that was sitting on your desk, now sits on another’s. The recipient handles the paper that you handled. Letters create a connection that modern and impersonal forms of communication will never replace.”

Métro, Lisbon by Désuète on Flickr.