iTunes, sour altoids, and the Backstreet Boys
I believe in golden sunsets In the sweet innocence of children The lazy afternoon heat in India Classic novels and iTunes I believe in sour altoids My mom’s Black Forest cake, just the way I like it The gentle hum of my dad’s old record player scratching out tunes to half-forgotten songs That the only thing that matters is money, smelling of hatred, power and greed is a fabricated lie ...
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.– Confucius
Pamuk: Here's How, Here's Why
schenkenberg: Last week’s New Yorker featured Orhan Pamuk’s absorbing Nobel Lecture, which, like those before it, can be found at the Nobel’s website. In the lecture, titled “My Father’s Suitcase” for the magazine issue, the Turkish novelist writes that the “starting point of true literature is the man who shuts himself up in his room with his books.” He continues: But once we shut ourselves...
Romance de la esposa fiel
Estaba la Catalina Sentada bajo un laurel Mirando la frescura De las aguas al caer. De pronto pasó un soldado Y lo hizo detener “Deténgase usted soldado Que una pregunta le quiero hacer” “¿Usted ha visto a mi marido En la guerra alguna vez?” “Yo no he visto a su marido Ni tampoco sé quien es”. “Mi marido es alto y rubio Y buenmozo como usted Y en la punta de su espada Lleva escrito San Andres”....
candystarjones asked: saw your reblog, and have to tell you that im the same! Southern california and it's stupid earthquakes.... >.<
Romance de la amiga de Bernal Francés
Sola me estoy en mi cama namorando mi cojín; ¿quién será ese caballero que a mi puerta dice: “Abrid”? Soy Bernal Francés, señora, el que te suele servir de noche para la cama, de día para el jardín. Alzó sábanas de holanda, cubrióse de un mantellín; tomó candil de oro en mano y a la puerta bajó a abrir. Al entreabrir de la puerta él dio un soplo en el candil. ¡Válgame Nuestra Señora,...
Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life. You don’t have to live...– Tuck Everlasting
happy. I never thought saying three words could make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :) Are you happy?
Sometimes I wish I was a kid again. I miss my childhood because it was filled with a lot of love and awesomeness.
All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light from a single candle.– francis of assisi (via honkeyhindu)
It is what you read when you don’t have to…that determines what you will be when...– Oscar Wilde
got honked at, ran into a pole, tripped on somebody else’s shoelaces, almost got hit by a cement mixer, definitely got hit by a guy riding his bicycle (on the sidewalk? really?) all while reading a book on the way to class. Sometimes pain and almost-accidents are worth it. The book in question:
ookyspookypookie asked: Favorite thing about yourself and why? c:
Bok choy, angry texts, and Prince Charming
This post has been two weeks in the making. Don’t expect something super awesome or anything; I’ve just been a little lazy of late. Anyway, this is the story of what happened to me two Saturdays ago. I was meeting my friend for lunch at a popular pizza place (for any foodies out there: it had bok choy, shitake and cremini mushrooms, mozzerella and fontiana, and sesame-ginger...