|—||Unknown (via thatkindofwoman)|
Stephen Kenn // Process Creative // The Encounter Collection
Now listen to me. This life, know that it is precious. You’ve gotta grasp at every little whiff of it that passes by you. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be certain. Not now, and not in your unimaginable future. Don’t be surprised, no. Embrace the stiff winds, and the lonely heights.
Remember your name. Never turn away from the bright course because it is hard. But above all, love. Scrape out the bottom of your soul and love for all your worth.
And when you find her, risk everything. Die a thousand deaths to get her. Don’t look back. When you grow older, older than I’ll ever be, blow on the embers of that first heroic choice. And you’ll be warmed, sustained.
Someday you’ll have a son. Remember he is your greatest gift. Tell him these things. Make a man of him. Love him.
Don’t live to get money. Have a few things, but make them good things. Take care of them, learn how they work. There is beauty in the smell of good machines and old leather.
When you walk, alone, in the autumn. Down roads at night, with the trees tossing in the sunset, know that I would give everything to walk with you, and tell you their names. But I am there, in the light through the branches. And I am loving you where I see you.
I must go now.
All my love, forever and ever,
(the kind my mother
grew up in)
hell to heat and cool
and faulty in the wiring
and though it’s nice to look at
I have no business
inviting lovers in.
|—||Clementine von Radics (via louveseul)|
Love isn’t an act, it’s a whole life.
It’s staying with her now because she needs you; it’s knowing you and she will still care about each other when sex and daydreams, fights and futures—when all that’s on the shelf and done with.
Love— why, I’ll tell you what love is: it’s you at seventy-five and her at seventy-one, each of you listening for the others step in the next room, each afraid that a sudden silence, a sudden cry, could mean a lifetimes talk is over.
|—||Brian Moore (via rainydaysandblankets)|
He didn’t love me. He just didn’t want to be alone. And for awhile, I was good for his ego. I made him feel better about his life. But he didn’t love me, because you don’t TRY to destroy people you love.
|—||Rumi (via milkwolves)|
|—||Fyodor Doestoevsky, The Idiot (via danatorio)|