Edgar Allan Poe, From A Letter To Mrs. Maria Clemm, July 1849

“I never tried to be anything other than a dreamer. I never paid any attention to people who told me to go out and live. I belonged always to whatever was far from me and to whatever I could never be. Anything that was not mine, however base, always seemed to be full of poetry. I only ever desired what was beyond my imaginings.”

— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

— Mary Oliver, "What I Have Learned So Far"

the unbearable lightness of being, philip kaufman 1988 / henri de toulouse-lautrec/ peter wever / egon schiele

joy is a promise by Sanna Wani

I cannot express how much I adore dappled shadows formed by sunlight in paintings and photography and in real life

⋆˚｡⋆ ⋆˚｡⋆⋆Collectionneuse (1967) dir. Éric Rohmer⋆˚｡⋆ ⋆˚｡⋆⋆

not to get all sad for no reason but something nobody tells you about growing up is that a part of you is just a little girl who is yelling ‘please like me please love me please tell me i am good’ at everyone you meet and most of your day is just trying to ignore her

I write, because I talked to people and they belittled my feelings.

I began to draw an invisible line between myself and other people. No matter who I was dealing with. I maintained a set distance, carefully monitoring the person’s attitude so that they wouldn't get any closer. I didn't easily swallow what other people told me. My only passions were books and music.

- Haruki Murakami