I love it!
I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling.
“
| — | Jack Kerouac (via theoceanislikeyou) |
Yet there was a man within me
Could have risen to the clouds,
Could have touched these winds,
Bent and broken them down,
Could have stood up sharply in the sky.
Could have risen to the clouds,
Could have touched these winds,
Bent and broken them down,
Could have stood up sharply in the sky.
“
| — | Wallace Stevens, from “A Weak Mind in the Mountains” (via the-final-sentence) |
Books, for me, are a home. Books don’t make a home – they are one, in the sense that just as you do with a door, you open a book, and you go inside. Inside there is a different kind of time and a different kind of space. There is warmth there too – a hearth. I sit down with a book and I am warm. I know that from the chilly nights on the doorstep.
“
| — | Jeanette Winterson, from “Why be Happy When You Can be Normal” (via nightswimming) |
The aim of life is self-development. To realize one’s nature perfectly - that is what each of us is here for.
“
| — | Oscar Wilde (via nathanielstuart) |
