Listen—I want to run all my life, screaming at the top of my lungs. Let all of life be an unfettered howl. Like the crowd greeting the gladiator. Don’t stop to think, don’t interrupt the scream, exhale, release life’s rapture. Everything is blooming. Everything is flying. Everything is screaming, choking on its screams. Laughter. Running. Let-down hair. That is all there is to life.

— Vladimir Nabokov

(Source: free-parking)

  • 11 hours ago
  • 386
Self-absorption in all its forms kills empathy, let alone compassion. When we focus on ourselves, our world contracts as our problems and preoccupations loom large. But when we focus on others, our world expands. Our own problems drift to the periphery of the mind and so seem smaller, and we increase our capacity for connection — or compassionate action.

— Daniel Goleman

(Source: thepaintedbench)

  • 1 day ago
  • 203
And I think there’s a point where we stop coming up with excuses to stay where it feels easy or we wilt away, because growth will only come when you let someone in enough to pour their love like rain water down your crystal vase throat, and you might think that you could choke on something so big, but trust me when I tell you that you were perfectly tailored to fit this and going thirsty is just a painful and foolish way to kill yourself.

— Moriah Pearson

(Source: girasolestelle)

  • 2 days ago
  • 1718

Everything is Waiting for You

Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.

— David Whyte

  • 3 days ago
  • 11
  • 4 days ago
  • 50993
I do not need to return. I will find you everywhere. You alone can go wherever I go, into the same mysterious regions. You too know the language of the nerves. You will always know what I am saying even if I do not.

Anaïs Nin

  • 5 days ago
  • 796

(Source: a-bstracto)

  • 2 weeks ago
  • 9990