To be nobody but yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else — means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.
— e.e. cummings (via wannistesglueck)

3 months ago with 16 notes
originally wannistesglueck

(Source: electricpussycat)


3 months ago with 230 notes
originally electricpussycat
He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray. But, to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again.

(Source: becausemcavoys)


3 months ago with 304 notes
originally becausemcavoys

(Source: blue-rose-delphinium)


3 months ago with 78 notes
originally blue-rose-delphinium
bollykecks:

bollykecks:


(Source: dirtyacid)


3 months ago with 19,932 notes
originally dirtyacid
infinitives:

Deniz (by RengimMutevellioglu)

infinitives:

Deniz (by RengimMutevellioglu)


3 months ago with 195 notes
originally infinitives

3 months ago with 151 notes
originally stardustings

(Source: poisonouschicken)


3 months ago with 2,773 notes
originally poisonouschicken
bollykecks:

1950s Teddy Girl photographed by Ken Russell.

bollykecks:

1950s Teddy Girl photographed by Ken Russell.


3 months ago with 528 notes
originally theniftyfifties

(Source: sunshineanderson)


3 months ago with 278 notes
originally sunshineanderson
allthingseurope:

The Spree River, Berlin, Germany (by andrea.sosio)

allthingseurope:

The Spree River, Berlin, Germany (by andrea.sosio)


3 months ago with 2,482 notes
originally allthingseurope
inkysquares:

Anna (by Drew//)

inkysquares:

Anna (by Drew//)


3 months ago with 457 notes
originally inkysquares
If you asked me now who I am, the only answer I could give with any certainty would be my name. For the rest: my loves, my hates, down even to my deepest desires, I can no longer say whether these emotions are my own, or stolen from those I once so desperately wished to be. On second thought, one emotion remains my own. Alone among the borrowed and the second-hand, as pure as that faith from which I am still in flight: Guilt.
— Brideshead Revisited (via tipmyhat)

3 months ago with 8 notes
originally tipmyhat

(Source: wokeupstrange)


4 months ago with 42 notes
originally wokeupstrange

(Source: poetrywritteningas)


4 months ago with 48 notes
originally poetrywritteningas
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