"Our life is made up of time; our days are measured in hours, our pay measured by those hours, our knowledge is measured by years. We grab a few quick minutes in our busy day to have a coffee break. We rush back to our desks, we watch the clock, we live by appointments. And yet your time eventually runs out and you wonder in your heart of hearts if those seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years and decades were being spent the best way they possibly could. In other words, if you could change anything, would you?"
Cecilia Ahern (via thechocolatebrigade)
(Source: missexlibris, via catmahndu)
(Source: thechocolatebrigade)
"…we know God is dead, they’d told us, but listening to you I wasn’t sure. maybe it was the upper case. you were one of the best female poets and I told the publishers, editors, “print her, print her, she’s mad but she’s magic. there’s no lie in her fire.” I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom, but that didn’t happen… if I had met you I would probably have been unfair to you or you to me. it was best like this."
Charles Bukowski (via thechocolatebrigade)
"Ah… Se já perdemos a noção da hora
Se juntos já jogamos tudo fora
Me conta agora, como hei de partir?
Ah… Se ao te conhecer dei pra sonhar
Fiz tantos desvarios…
Rompi com o mundo, queimei meus navios…
Me diz pra onde é que inda posso ir?"
Chico Buarque (via naofedenemcheira)
"Ainda lembro o que passou
Eu, você, em qualquer lugar
Dizendo: “Aonde você for eu vou"
Marisa Monte
(Source: naocontalaemcasa, via tortos-caminhos)
(via mariiaclaudia)
"I felt, that night, on that stage, under that skull, incredibly close to everything in the universe, but also extremely alone."
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer (via thechocolatebrigade)
"He did not care if she was heartless, vicious and vulgar, stupid and grasping, he loved her. He would rather have misery with one than happiness with the other."
W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage (via helplesslyamazed)
(Source: quote-book)
“Some wounds never heal. The second time the sword went in, I aimed it at the place of the first. I am weak there—the place where I had been found out before. My weakness was skinned over by your love. I knew when you healed me that the wound would open again, I knew it like destiny, and at the same time, I knew it as choice. The love potion? I never drank it. Did you?”
— Jeanette Winterson
