If we can only come to our senses and feel it …

You must learn to heed your senses. Humans use but a tiny percentage of theirs. They barely look, they rarely listen, they never smell, and they think that they can only experience feelings through their skin. But they talk, oh, do they talk. When you concentrate on the world of the physical senses, it draws you in. Then your emotional and mental reactions draw you further. At that point, you are no longer sitting in the centered Self; you are absorbed in the inner show you are watching.
via/habitually chic, snobfashion, katethegreat, borrowed heaven, studded hearts


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I always tell the truth. Even when I lie.

I’ve learned to get really good at this – say one thing when I’m thinking about something else, act like I’m listening when I’m not, pretend to be calm and happy when I’m really freaking out. It’s one of the skills you perfect as you get older.
via/habitually chic, snobfashion, theyallhateus, kate the great
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All I have is a voice.

Words can be twisted into any shape. Promises can be made to lull the heart and seduce the soul. In the final analysis, words mean nothing. They are labels we give things in an effort to wrap our puny little brains around their underlying natures, when ninety-nine percent of the time the totality of the reality is an entirely different beast. The wisest man is the silent one. Examine his actions. Judge him by them.
via/habitually chic, kate the great, snobfashionblog, studded hearts
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A good snapshot keeps a moment from running away.

I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom…
via/snob, katethegreat, habitually chic


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Most everything you think you know about me is nothing more than memories.

I discovered that my obsession for having each thing in the right place, each subject at the right time, each word in the right style, was not the well-deserved reward of an ordered mind but just the opposite: a complete system of pretense invented by me to hide the disorder of my nature. I discovered that I am not disciplined out of virtue but as a reaction to my negligence, that I appear generous in order to conceal my meanness, that I pass myself off as prudent because I am evil-minded, that I am conciliatory in order not to succumb to my repressed rage, that I am punctual only to hide how little I care about other people’s time. I learned, in short, that love is not a condition of the spirit but a sign of the zodiac.
via/snobfashionblog, katethegreat, habitally chic

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Success is never final. Failure is never fatal. It is courage that counts.

Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.
via/visualoverdose, katethegreat, snobfashionblog, habitually chic

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Your perspective on life comes from the cage you were held captive in.

It is almost as if we are all playing a big game of hide-and-go-seek. We all hide expecting to be found, but no one has been labeled the seeker. We stand behind the wall, at first excited, then worried, then bored, then anxious, then angry. We hide and hide. After a while, the game is not fun anymore. Where is my seeker? Where is the person who is supposed to come find me here in my protected shell and cut me open? Where is that one who will make me trust him, make me comfortable, make me feel whole? Some people rot on the spot, waiting for the seeker that never comes. The most truth that can relate to you, if you are hiding and waiting, is that the seeker is you and the world, behind so many walls, awaits.
via/habitually chic, snobfashion, they all hate us


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If your soul isn´t on fire, it isn´t love.

I normally shy away from absolutes, especially ones concerning love. But this one seems to work. It seems to allow for a love that is subtle, reserved, and quiet while still being hot, boiling beneath the surface. This love doesn´t have to be mad, burning passion. It doesn´t have to be craze-filled lust. It can be. It can be bodies and skin and lipsgrabbing, groping, and biting. It is – but it doesn´t have to be. It can be slow, it can be subtle, it can be as small as a kindling spark deep in the brush. It exists for those who are not always passion and lust, who have quiet mouths and loud minds, who refuse to perform, for those whose soul burn and for those who just stare them in the eye and say Yes. I am in. – I am all in- . So if you are patient enough and understanding enough, you will see that you too can put your arms in places that have dust in them.
via/snob blog, habitually chic, kate the great, fashion canvas
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I am not the one who says life is beautiful. I am the one who feels it.

All in all, it was a never-to-be-forgotten summer — one of those summers which come seldom into any life, but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going — one of those summers which, in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, delightful friends and delightful doing, come as near to perfection as anything can come in this world.
via/habitually chic, snob, they all hate us, kate the great

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I was smiling yesterday, I am smiling today and I will smile tomorrow.

My heart sank into my shoes as I realized at last how much I wanted him. No matter what his past was, no matter what he had done. Which was not to say that I would ever let him know, but only that he moved me chemically more than anyone I had ever met, that all other men seemed pale beside him.
via/snob, oracle fox, habitually chic, kate the great


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