23rd September 11
The three things you must promise me you’ll do no matter what.
(via poeticheartache)
well it’s not the beginning of the end but the beginning of something else
11th September 11
Wary Weary quite contrary
how does your garden grow?
with crying belles, and cockle shells
and silly maids all in a row
"I got tired, I told him. Not worn out, but worn through. Like one of those wives who wakes up one morning and says I can’t bake any more bread.
You never bake bread, he wrote, and we were still joking.
Then it’s like I woke up and baked bread, I said, and we were joking even then. I wondered will there come a time when we won’t be joking? And what would it look like? And how would that feel?
When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calender that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from the chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table.
I spent my life learning to feel less.
Every day I felt less.
Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?
You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness."
11th September 11
Jonathan Safran Foer (via loveyourchaos)
(via loveyourchaos)
"Nothing makes me happier and nothing makes me sadder than you."
11th September 11
Value
9th September 11
When things are around you for long enough you tend to forget that they’re there. Life should be led with a tiny perennial fear that one day everything around you will disappear. This fear will lead to a perpetual state of thankfulness, and a significantly reduced tendency to take anything for granted.
29th August 11
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Few are lucky enough to experience a community filled primarily with respect and a common love for one thing. When there’s a loss they all mourn and when there’s triumph all celebrate. Musicians (successful, not starving) are really the luckiest people ever.
More than anything I miss sitting around in a circle with a guitar or two, working out and fine-tuning harmonies. The best times are when things get horribly out of tune and everyone just stops and collapses into laughter. Hours and hours of practice and talking. That heavy magical silence after the very first perfect run. And then, when an audience is finally present, the meeting of eyes and the sly smile under the bright spotlight that carries the secret among us that we’re the only ones that know of the journey that brought this song, whatever song, onto this stage. Nothing really beats that moment.
"Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play… I tell you, that it is on things like these that our lives depend."
23rd June 11
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via loveyourchaos)
(Source: sleepylotus, via wildeebeast)
