Hannah and 22. Although I fervantly believe that we are constructed out of the words we say and thoughts we share, whenever it comes to defining myself I am always at a complete and utter loss. I like to live in the past or in other people's present. I eat food slowly, and absorb the world in much the same way. Savouring it.

"Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire."
Roland Barthes
10bullets:

Sadie (by GraceAdams)
Mostly, I feel I am forgetting old ideas and findings faster than I can replace them with new ones…
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms.
Henry David Thoreau (via jennabooklover)
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more.
Lord Byron (via 7sunriseoversea)
arquerio:

sunbeam by Rebecca Artemisa on Flickr.
aphelia:

untitled by emma.williams on Flickr.
We talked of the other worlds we’d discover
As she gave up her body to me
And as I chopped up her mainsail for timber
I told her of all that we still had to see
As the frost turned her moorings to nine-tail
And the wind lashed her sides in the cold
I burned her to keep me alive every night
In the lover’s embrace of her hold.
Another New World, Josh Ritter
vhord:

strictly nature

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.


Invictus, William Ernest Henley (via observando)

☼
aesza:

Mandijn, Jan - Landscape with the Legend of St. Christopher by ros_with_a_prince on Flickr.
Mandijn, Jan - Landscape with the Legend of St. Christopher
4nimalparty:

Joshua Meador
sleepy
theme