They Went Home
idealisting: by Maya Angelou They went home and told their wives, that never once in all their lives, had they known a girl like me, But… They went home. They said my house was licking clean, no word I spoke was ever mean, I had an air of mystery, But… They went home. My praises were on all men’s lips, they liked my smile, my wit, my hips, they’d spend one night, or two or three. But… wow....
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, You must know sorrow as...– Naomi Shihab Nye (via psychotherapy) So true, so true
Tumblr Stole My Domain At The Behest of A...
jilllian: sarahbeara: tumbledore: I’ve run pitchfork.tumblr.com for almost a year now. I had several posts up and I followed 28 people with the account. All my posts are now gone and my address has been changed to pitchfork1.tumblr.com. Where my blog once stood now stands the official Tumblr for Pitchfork Media Inc. Watch out, Soup, I hear Campbell’s is gunning for you next. Recently, one...
Dwell not upon thy weariness, thy strength shall be according to the measure of...– Arab Proverb (via idealisting)
Beauty isn’t from pretty face, but from pretty mind, pretty heart, and pretty...– Yolanda Simamora (Submitted by: nandayolanda) (via quotewhore)
A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose...– Ronald Dahl (via quotewhore) Aiming for more sunbeams shining days
ntima: Sometimes, but only sometimes, I am the saddest girl on the planet. Occasionally I forget what I have, and how beautiful my life is.
Someone’s opinion of you does not have to become your reality.– Les Brown (via coolsundays)
betterleftunsaid7: I remember being at a friend’s house and it was just a small group of us, so I felt ok talking about my numbness. One guy I did not know well says what does that mean you’re one of Jerry’s kids? I always donate to that, nice to see my money in person. He was talking about Jerry Lewis and the marathon that they run every year for muscualr dystrophy!! It took all of my strength...
Writing and reading are the loneliest arts.– A Writer’s Ruminations (via awritersruminations) (via booklover) ******* It’s better that way. (via idealisting) It has to be, with all the distractions you’d never get reading or writing done if you werent alone.
Where there’s tea there’s hope.– Arthur W. Pinero (via pootling) (via fuckyeahilovetea)
Friends always ask, “Do you still like him?” and honestly, I just really don’t...– (via iamblessed) What is that? Is it loneliness? Is it fear? Is it truly love? What keeps us?