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We assume others show love the same way we do — and if they don’t, we worry it’s not there.

—Unknown  (via psych-facts)

(via lucid--daydreaming)

mfjr:

Lorna’s Garden, Ireland, 2012 
by Robert Ellis

mfjr:

Lorna’s Garden, Ireland, 2012 

by Robert Ellis

(via deltaform)

She is not “my girl.”

She belongs to herself, and to all of the world. And I am blessed, for with all her freedom, she still comes back to me, moment-to-moment, day-by-day, and night-by-night.

How much more blessed can I be?

—Avraham Chaim, Thoughts after The Alchemist (via sirui)

(Source: avraham-chai, via sirui)

Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.

The Little Prince  (via bl-ossomed)

(Source: itsthewaitingunknown, via mammamoon)

Life is both sad and solemn. We are led into a wonderful world, we meet one another here, greet each other—-and wander together for a brief moment. Then we lose each other and disappear as suddenly and unreasonably as we arrived.

—Jostein Gaarder (via sirui)

(Source: theforlornhope, via sirui)

I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry.

Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it’s just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on.

—Ray Bradbury (via 13neighbors)