Yes! One day I will have such an amazing pet.
(Source: arreter, via barefoot-sun-child)
posted 3 weeks ago / 15,418 notes / reblog
Numbness has been broken by bits and pieces of extreme happiness in the midst of it-doesn’t-matterness.
Sick days and all… my life is better than I could ever be creative enough to ask for.
The 500 Colored Pencils Set is a monthly subscription for color: you get 25 pencils a month for 20 months, shipped directly to your house for an endless menagerie of colors running wild along your walls (if you buy the displays). The variety of colors alone is astounding, but check out some of the imaginative names that they’ve chosen for the colors: lettuce, mermaid’s gown, drizzly afternoon, mild curry, tragedy, norwegian sky.
(via iliveinaboxofpaints)
posted 4 weeks ago / 13,345 notes / reblog
" Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing."
-Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
-Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
" Music takes me to places of illimitable sensual and insensate joy, accessing points of ecstasy that no angelic lover could ever locate, or plunging me into gibbering weeping hells of pain that no torturer could ever devise."
-Stephen Fry (via indicio)
-Stephen Fry (via indicio)
(via 21wolves)
posted 1 month ago / 56 notes / reblog
Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
