“
the storybooks we read as children didn't tell us that the monsters under our beds are the creatures we become when we grow up and the world turns us into broken, angry things.
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my definition of otp doesn’t necessarily mean romance and sex must be involved. i’m talking extreme intimacy. two people who are so deeply intertwined in such a way that they can never and will never be separated, a love that is almost unexplainable.
I just wanted this on my blog because ships, as a general rule, are not something I discuss too often (it’s not the most important part of any story to me, I have to fundamentally appreciate/connect to the characters as separate entities first, before I can care about them together, and sometimes I’m drawn to pairs that aren’t typically ‘romantic’ or that I may not necessarily think should be sexually-based). I find I’m drawn to relationships that exist almost cosmically, in a spiritual sense, soul mates that go beyond mere romance or beyond the physical, people who are satellites and anchors for one another. Love on the whole is a grander idea to me than romance alone (though of course a LOT of the time that’s part of it, it can be body/soul, and it can simply be soul). But when two beings discover that in each other lies the other’s salvation, when connections form that can never be erased, or bonds are forged that should be impossible (and yet are immutable), when they see the beauty in one another that no one else can see - the superficial bits (gender background etc etc) disappear. It may be inexplicable, it may not always be happy (but maybe it’s rapturous); it’s necessary whether it burns eternal or only flames for a moment. And that’s true love in any sense, those are my favorite love stories. (“When love has fused and mingled two beings in a sacred and angelic unity, the secret of life has been discovered so far as they are concerned; they are no longer anything more than the two boundaries of the same destiny; they are no longer anything but the two wings of the same spirit. Love, soar.”)
“Who gives a fuck about your first love. Give a big round of applause for your second love, because they taught you love still exists after you thought it never could again.”
There are 7 billion people on this planet who I have not met, and 195 countries I have not visited. Yet I am stuck in this insignificant town, being pressured into making decisions about my future, when I barely even know who I am.
Unknown (via buddhacoffee)
How often I have watched, and longed to imitate when I should be free to live as I chose, a rower who had shipped his oars and lay flat on his back in the bottom of his boat, letting it drift with the current, seeing nothing but the sky gliding slowly by above him, his face aglow with a foretaste of happiness and peace!
Swann’s way, Marcel Proust (via claramariajaune)
Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisioned by the enemy, don’t we consider it his duty to escape?…If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we’re partisans of liberty, then it’s our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!
J.R.R. Tolkien (via beniddles)
I have always said this, “If you can enjoy someones silence, you truly enjoy the person.”
Sleep tries to seduce me by promising a more reasonable tomorrow.
Elizabeth Smart, By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept (via flightless)
Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great. When you are seeking to bring big plans to fruition, it is important with whom you regularly associate. Hang out with friends who are like-minded and who are also designing purpose-filled lives. Similarly, be that kind of a friend for your friends.
Mark Twain (via mindless-clutter)
I think hell is something you carry around with you. Not somewhere you go.
Neil Gaiman (via divineisinyou)
”Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.” - Ray Bradbury (from Fahreneit 451)
