"How strange it is to be anything at all."
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To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest.
written by  Pema Chödrön (via purplebuddhaproject)

(via purplebuddhaproject)

The memory of you emerges from the night around me.
The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea.

Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one!

Cold flower heads are raining over my heart.
Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked.

In you the wars and the flights accumulated.
From you the wings of the song birds rose.

You swallowed everything, like distance.
Like the sea, like time. In you everything sank!

It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss.
The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse.


written by Pablo Neruda, A Song Of Despair (via whyallcaps)

(via kaidenii)

lonequixote:

Bathers ~ Theo van Rysselberghe

Joost Schmidt, Offset. Buch und Werbekunst No. 7 (detail), 1926
holographic-plants:

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thirdorgan:

Antoni Clavé (Spanish, 1913–2005)
TABLE AUX FRUITS 1966