reading space.


reading space.

(via langleav)


Good Morning, Geeks!
Took this from goodreads, no idea on the source.


Good Morning, Geeks!

Took this from goodreads, no idea on the source.

(via blissfullyescapingreality)


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)

(via stuckinafantasyland)

Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.
Albert Camus (via larmoyante)

(via sugar-cafe)


when i write
i either take 5 seconds to come up with 3 pages or i take 6 hours to just get the first sentence feeling right
there is no in between

(via courtnundrum)

Love Poem
The moon was booked to appear in this poem,
But due to stress
and overwork,
Countless appearances in sonnets and haiku,
It’s going to be difficult to express how much
I like you.
It’s been holding it’s breath
And turning blue,
Once in a while.
Smiling for children,
Styling the tide.
Inspiring sex,
And suicide.
A backlog of allusions to deal with.
Feelings to justify.
It’s done very well for a lump of white rock,
With a peak time slot in the night sky,
Sharing top billing with it’s straight man, the sun, The best double act
in kingdom not come.
Mystified and delighted
With the interest shown
By painters
And writers
And people alone.
But at the last minute NASA phoned
And bumped up the residuals,
So your poem’s been postponed.
I’m sorry.
David Thewlis (via ramblingsofanitwit)

(via arteacfox)



Candida Hofer - Libraries (published 2005)

(via redhan)


You know that moment when you’re reading a book and you just have to stop and bite your lip and squeal or sigh or close your eyes and wrinkle your nose and forehead and press the book against your heart and just like sit there and try to soak up the gorgeous literature via osmosis?

That’s my favorite part of reading. 

(via blissfullyescapingreality)

I’ve always wondered
What it’s like
To be wrapped up in your arms

To be pulled in close,
Held in tight,
Falling for your charms

It feels warm
―no hot―
And your breath mists my neck
In this dream that I do dream.

For years to come
You’ll sleep with me
Never to be seen

Workinglikeawriter (um, me)

I think you believed
that I would always be
the earth to your sun,
but I’ve grown enough
to step outside of your orbit
and into my own.
K.R, (via x)