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sunflowers, spearmint tea, solitude.


there is a part of me that truly does love animals more than humans.

here, living with you,
love is still the only subject that matters.
i open to you like a flowering wound,
or a trough in the sea filled with dreaming fish,
or a steaming chasm of earth
split by a major quake.

you changed the topography.
where valleys were,
there are now mountains.
where deserts were,
there now are seas.

we rub each other,
but we do not wear away.

the sand gets finer
and our skins turn silk.

— Erica Jong, from After The Earthquake  (via rampias)

marieantoinete:

Patterns by William Morris, part I.


Human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them…life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.

— Gabriel García Márquez (via ismiledsweetly)

ayyye, it’s spring 


I’ve been out walking / I don’t do too much talking / these days


You can sin or spend the night alone…

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Do you love me enough that I may be weak with you? Everyone loves strength, but do you love me for my weakness? That is the real test.

Alain de Botton, Essays in Love (via durianquotes)

Eat fruit. Eat vegetables. Eat sunshine.