i r a i t s i l s

Liss S. (:
- just another misinterpreted soul searching her way through the many confusion in this world.
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“
When fear crawls out in the evenings from all four corners, when the winter storm raging outside tells you it is winter, and that it is difficult to live in the winter, when my soul trembles at the sight of distant fantasies, I shiver and say one word with every heartbeat, every pulse, every piece of my soul—liberation. In such moments it hardly matters where it is going to come from and who will bring it, so long as it’s faster and comes sooner. Doubts are growing in my soul. Quiet! Blessed be he who brings good news, no matter from where, no matter to where. Time, go ahead. Time, which carries liberation in its unknown tomorrow…maybe not for me, but for people like me. The result is certain. Down with any doubts. Everything comes to an end. Spring will come.

—

Elsa Binder, 30 January 1942, from Salvaged Pages: Young Writers’ Diaries of the Holocaust (edited by Alexandra Zapruder)

Elsa Binder wrote eloquently and passionately about the destruction of the Jewish community in Stanislawow, Poland. Her diary was found in a ditch on the way to an execution site. Though it is likely she perished in the Holocaust, the date and circumstances of her death remain unknown.

(via the-holocaust)

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When you start to really know someone, all his physical characteristics start to disappear. You begin to dwell in his energy, recognize the scent of his skin. You see only the essence of the person,not the shell. That’s why you can’t fall in love with beauty. You can lust after it, be infatuated by it, want to own it. You can love it with your eyes and body but not your heart. And that’s why, when you really connect with a person’s inner self, any physical imperfections disappear, become irrelevant.

—Lisa Unger, Beautiful Lies (via danseurs)

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One of the deep secrets of life is that all that is really worth the doing is what we do for others.

—Lewis Carroll (via thelifeguardlibrarian)

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We die to each other daily. What we know of other people is only our memory of the moments during which we knew them. And they have changed since then. To pretend that they and we are the same is a useful and convenient social convention which must sometimes be broken. We must also remember that at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.

—T. S. Eliot (via pavorst)

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In deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality.

—William S. Burroughs, Queer (via honeyforthehomeless)

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I am disillusioned enough to know that no man’s opinion on any subject is worth a damn unless backed up with enough genuine information to make him really know what he’s talking about.

— H. P. Lovecraft (via cozmoxandre)

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I try to maintain a healthy dose of daydreaming, to remain sane.

—Florence Welch (via therabbithearted)

(Source: )

sleepinginthesnow: Bukowski

sleepinginthesnow:

Bukowski

vintageanchor: “A critic can only review the book he has read, not the one which the writer wrote.”—Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic’s Notebook, 1960

vintageanchor:

“A critic can only review the book he has read, not the one which the writer wrote.”

—Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic’s Notebook, 1960

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I have found it easier to identify with the characters who verge upon hysteria, who were frightened of life, who were desperate to reach out to another person. But these seemingly fragile people are the strong people really.

—Tennessee Williams (via ungathering)

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There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.

—John Green, The Fault in Our Stars (via xenium)

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I don’t know anything with certainty, but seeing the stars makes me dream.

—Vincent Van Gogh (via philphys)

(Source: sasikirana)