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srafandseedpods:

OH MY GOD one of our tigers did this (and it isn’t stuck on his head; one of the keepers went in to see if he needed help and he undid this and redid it on his own a few times) but oh my god hE’S PRETENDING TO BE A LION IM GONNA DIE

(via aauroraskies)


(via sparroe)



Cloud Study (detail) by John Constable.

Cloud Study (detail) by John Constable.

(via sparroe)


(via sparroe)


allthingseurope:

Istanbul, Turkey  (by ces@r_)

allthingseurope:

Istanbul, Turkey  (by ces@r_)


Some people, they can’t just move on, you know, mourn and cry and be done with it. Or at least seem to be. But for me… I don’t know. I didn’t want to fix it, to forget. It wasn’t something that was broken. It’s just…something that happened. And like that hole, I’m just finding ways, every day, of working around it. Respecting and remembering and getting on at the same time.
Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever (via observando)

Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That’s part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that’s where I imagine it - there’s a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own private library.
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore (via observando)

(via sparroe)




(via langleav)


(via aauroraskies)


screaming0rganism:

as-cool-as-an-attempted-suicide:

wallflowerbloom:

No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

(Dead Poets Society, 1989)

Me

forever reblog

(via aauroraskies)



emchelle:

Springtime in Texas

Took a drive into the hill country to see the wildflowers and found this little spot at sunset. I could have stayed here for hours.

(via butjesuswhatamess)