“In the end, everyone is aware of this: nobody keeps any of what he has, and life is only a borrowing of bones.”— Pablo Neruda, from “October Fullness”
Grace | 23 | Somewhere between lost & found
“You were wild and sweet between pleasure and sleep, between fire and water.”— Pablo Neruda, tr. by Paul Weinfield, from “Night on the Island,”
“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.”— Pablo Neruda
(Source: landscape-photo-graphy.com, via photography-cnl)
All the quick futility of my days cascaded upon me, and I wanted to scream out in helpless fury at the hopeless inevitable going on of seconds, days and years.
— Sylvia Plath,from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via watchoutforintellect)
Aiming to find you, and missing, and again missing.
— Ted Hughes, from Birthday Letters: Poems; “Visit” (via violentwavesofemotion)
Is it still I, burning here beyond recognition?
I will not drag memories inside.
O life, life: externality.
And I in flame. No one knowing me.
I will not drag memories inside.
O life, life: externality.
And I in flame. No one knowing me.
— Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Poetry of Rilke; “Uncollected Poems” (via horrorshow)
(Source: luthienne, via horrorshow)
How do you say goodbye to someone who isn’t exactly gone?
— Richelle Mead, Shadow Kiss
(via kushandwizdom)
(Source: the-devil-wears-zara, via the59thstreetbridge)
(via titmitten)