“You and I have been happy; we haven’t been happy just once, we’ve been happy a thousand times. The chances that the spring, that’s for everyone, like in the popular songs, may belong to us too—the chances are pretty bright at this time…”—to Zelda from F. Scott Fitzgerald, 26th April 1934 (via seabois)
the way people look at me confuses me like 60% of the time. it’s so strange how you have a certain idea about yourself and/or the situation you’re in, and it can be totally different than what someone else sees.
i’m sure that if i met my brother and sister as regular people and not siblings, we’d have nothing to do with each other.
god, we are such assholes in our individual ways. some of us casually bring up an ongoing conflict over oxy with some 40 year old man. another might passive aggressively change their mind against plans that were decided weeks ago. and then there’s that crazy bitch who gets all pissed off because she wants to control some one or thing.
“oh, the periphery
i lost another one there
he found a prettier girl than me
with a more even-tempered air
and if he wants her, he should get her
cause i think he thinks she’s worth it
and maybe they’ll move from the periphery
by themselves, or on a plot of land
and i’ll care in a different capacity, i’ll just be
hoping he makes a good family man
and if he finds himself yearning
for his throne on the silly side
nothing wrong as long as he’s learning
besides, you can take it up with his brethren
or with his bride, just not with me.”—fiona apple
“My skin is kind of sort of brownish pinkish yellowish white. My eyes are greyish blueish green, but I’m told they look orange in the night. My hair is reddish blondish brown, but it’s silver when it’s wet, and all the colors I am inside have not been invented yet.”—Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends (via larmoyante)
“albert camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not.
tom robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning and an end.
camus clearly got up on the wrong side of bed, and robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.
there is only one serious question. and that is: who knows how to make love stay?
answer me that and i will tell you whether or not to kill yourself.”—still life with woodpecker, tom robbins
“it has always seemed strange to me…the things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling, are the concomitants of failure in our system. and those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest, are the traits of success. and while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second.”—cannery row, john steinbeck