July 2011
“I have the simplest tastes. I am always satisfied with the best.”
– Oscar Wilde (via among-the-narcissi)
“It’s strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling...”
– T. S. Eliot (via thistlepie)
“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day...”
– John Lubbock
“The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts...”
– Charles Bukowski (via comeonstealme)
Tyler Knott: Words For Those That Remain →
tylerknott:
There will come a time, a day, a moment when words are not enough. When the letters hooking to other letters and tying themselves to each other, the trains of vowels and consonants chasing each other out of my mouth just won’t do justice to the avalanche that you’re struggling through. If this is…
“Let’s not let anyone tell us that the Internet is going to murder the book,...”
– William Giraldi, Poets & Writers July/August 2011 (via lesmotsjustes)
“A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays...”
– The Diary of Anaïs Nin (via dira)
“He loved her, he loved her, and until he’d loved her she had never minded being...”
– Truman Capote (via thatkindofwoman)
“At the bottom of her heart, however, she was waiting for something to happen....”
– Gustave Flaubert (via monsieurmademoiselle)
