The Latest

Sep 19, 2014 / 36 notes

(via ko-no-ko)

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.
Madeline MIller, The Song of Achilles (via quoted-books)

(via negromodelo)

Sep 19, 2014 / 624 notes
Sep 19, 2014 / 967 notes

(via negromodelo)

Sep 19, 2014 / 57,246 notes

(via adrianjackie)

Sep 18, 2014 / 1,343 notes
funoneonone:
Sep 18, 2014 / 399 notes
Paulinha Padase 
Sep 18, 2014 / 4 notes
constantarrival:

Moonwalk ~ By Victor Caroli
Sep 18, 2014 / 14,013 notes

Australia Zoo by (Luke Middleton)
Sep 18, 2014 / 67,351 notes
her-gift-his-honor:

~ For You ~
Thoughts of You plague me like the most delicious dream. Pulling me back, time and again, into the very warmth of Your being.I loathe to open my eyes and greet the new dawn with its shimmer of warm autumn rays. For as bright as the rays of sunshine as they softly caress my lids, they will always pale in comparison to You.
Sep 18, 2014 / 6,103 notes

her-gift-his-honor:

~ For You ~

Thoughts of You plague me like the most delicious dream.
Pulling me back, time and again, into the very warmth of Your being.
I loathe to open my eyes and greet the new dawn with its shimmer of warm autumn rays.
For as bright as the rays of sunshine as they softly caress my lids, they will always pale in comparison to You.

(via visionsofreality)

Sep 18, 2014 / 2,939 notes

(via adrianjackie)

I crave space. It charges my batteries. It helps me breathe. Being around people can be so exhausting, because most of them love to take and barely know how to give - except for a rare few.
Katie Kacvinsky (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
Sep 18, 2014 / 2,486 notes
flowersgardenlove:

Purple Pansies! Beau Beautiful gorgeous pretty flowers
Sep 18, 2014 / 136 notes

flowersgardenlove:

Purple Pansies! Beau Beautiful gorgeous pretty flowers

(via adrianjackie)

Sep 18, 2014 / 59 notes

mariacenzina:

People are gifts of the universe,
each uniquely packaged
and given on occasions
both known and plotted
in the calendar of destiny
to be loved not for their wrapping,
tattered and torn by the hands of time,
but for their deepest contents
hidden beneath layers of wrapping
that cannot be seen, but rather felt
by hearts that reach deep enough
to know them.

(via twohousesoftheholy)

Sep 18, 2014 / 2 notes