On your worst days you look in the mirror and call yourself pretty. Call yourself trying, call yourself surviving, call yourself learning how to get through a day, a week, a month or a year. Call yourself still learning.
via/snobfashion, oracle fox, they all hate us
Arent we all in-betweeners? We live in the moment in between one point to the next. Never are we exactly where we want to be, because it constantly changes, and we are constantly moving and growing older, and dying and regenerating all at once.
via/snobfashion blog, oracle fox, kate the great, breed
I‘ve been making a list of the things they don‘t teach you at school. They don‘t teach you how to love somebody. They don‘t teach you how to be famous. They don‘t teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don‘t teach you how to walk away from someone you don‘t love any longer. They don‘t teach you how to know what‘s going on in someone else‘s mind. They don‘t teach you what to say to someone who‘s dying. They don‘t teach you anything worth knowing.
via/snob, they all hate us, kate the great
Sometimes I can’t see what’s right in front of me, because it’s behind me. I want to own something that really reflects me as a person. We always see our worst selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone else to get close enough to tell us we’re wrong. Someone we trust. Something like a mirror.
via/ breed, ben tovato, snob, oracle fox
We are Anonymous. We are Legion. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us.
via/snob, habitually chic, oracle fox, anine bing
Is anything truly impossible? Or is it that the path to our goals appears too unclear to follow? It seems to me that if you seek hard enough, believe hard enough, you usually stumble across a scattering of breadcrumbs that marks the trail leading to the goal you once considered beyond your reach.
via/ anine bing, breed, ben trovato, oracle fox, they all hate us, breed
…the secret of the Great Stories is that they have no secrets. The Great Stories are the ones you have heard and want to hear again. The ones you can enter anywhere and inhabit comfortably. They don’t deceive you with thrills and trick endings. They don’t surprise you with the unforeseen. They are as familiar as the house you live in. Or the smell of your lover’s skin. You know how they end, yet you listen as though you don’t. In the way that although you know that one day you will die, you live as though you won’t. In the Great Stories you know who lives, who dies, who finds love, who doesn’t. And yet you want to know again.
via/breed, snob, habitually chic, ben trovato, oracle fox
“I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane.” – by someone who loved someone else secretly.
via/snob, they all hate us, kate the great, anine bing
Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won‘t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.
via/habitually chic, lovely mine, snob, kate the great, vintage memories