1AM
The arts are not a way of making a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.
Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without A Country (via abstracted-citizen)
March242012
Hey, I just met you,
and this is crazy,
but here’s my number,
so call me, maybe?
And all the other boys,
try to chase me,
but here’s my number,
so call me, maybe?
I have had this song on repeat and/or stuck in my head for the past four days courtesy of my friends in CRU. :P
March142012
These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on shelves. From each of them goes out its own voice…and just as the touch of a button on our set will fill the room with music, so by taking down one of these volumes and opening it, one can call into range that voice of a man far distant in time and space, and hear him speaking to us, mind to mind, heart to heart.
Gilbert Highet (via quote-book)
March112012
I want an adventure. I wish travel was free so I could leave for Europe tomorrow and forget about school and worries and life. I want a change.
March92012
She loved, had a capacity to love, for love, to give and accept love. Only she tried twice and failed twice to find somebody not just strong enough to deserve it, earn it, match it, but even brave enough to accept it.
William Faulkner (via thechocolatebrigade)