It was the Myth of Fingerprints

  • 17th
  • April
  • 2014
In a real sense, all life is interrelated.
The agony of the poor impoverishes the rich;
the betterment of the poor enriches the rich.
We are inevitably our brother’s keeper because
we are our brother’s brother.
Martin Luther King, Jr.
  • 28th
  • March
  • 2014
« L’idée de Frontière, on le voit, ne connaît pas de frontières. »
Le Western: approches, mythologies, auteurs - actuers, filmographies
  • 25th
  • March
  • 2014
Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night’s sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting, in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake somebody else up, so that they can feel this way, too.
Lemony Snicket (via psych-facts)

(via farmerjoe)

  • 24th
  • March
  • 2014
The pretty version of what happens when farmerjoe and I sing.




Why does everyone post the boring version with lil choirboys when THIS exists



(via quitequiteblue)

  • 12th
  • March
  • 2014
Love liberates. It doesn’t bind. Love says. ‘I love you. I love you if you’re in China. I love you if you’re across town. I love you if you’re in Harlem. I love you. I would like to be near you. I’d like to have your arms around me. I’d like to hear your voice in my ear. But that’s not possible now. So I love you. Go.’
Maya Angelou (via perfect)

(Source: jordanboboltz, via dancinginodessa)

  • 8th
  • March
  • 2014
One of my philosophy professors lectured wildly about love once, yelling: “When you’re in love with someone, that person is the lighthouse of your universe.” (I scrawled it inside Science and Poetry in pencil—lighthouse of your universe—as if I would ever forget that phrase.) He was a delightful caricature of his position. I could swear he literally tore his hair out while howling at us. He went on, “Nothing means as much without that person.” One of the men in the class repeated, incredulous, half-laughing, “So you’re saying you can’t enjoy, like, a vacation, without someone if you’re really in love with them?” “Of course not.” the professor replied. “Not completely. You recognize beauty, but beauty means less if they don’t witness it with you. Beauty is less. You see something sublime and your first thought is that they should be there with you. It’s not as good without them. They illuminate. They make everything more.
(via albinwonderland)

(Source: lindsey-e, via quitequiteblue)

  • 3rd
  • March
  • 2014
Nihil humanum a me alienum puto, said the Roman poet Terence: ‘Nothing human is alien to me.’ The slogan of the old Immigration and Naturalization Service could have been the reverse: To us, no aliens are human.
― Christopher Hitchens, Hitch-22: A Memoir



  • 19th
  • February
  • 2014

That awkward moment when a white guy on Facebook says that race has no place in our argument over whether or not equal ‘rights’ equate to equal oppurtunity/access and the “American Dream” (read as: pulling yourself up by your boots straps).

  • 12th
  • February
  • 2014

Take in time
A breath of night
Shimmering through hollows
Between ribs,
teeth, hands

I feel the abyss
that chills the skin
the lack the present
echoes past
rippling forward
words we wait for
out from the center
time again begins

circles reaching out
touching me from the center
left long ago
washing against me
love against the wind
time’s tale
tells not the wind to ebb
nor the river to stop its flow