Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you.
“
| — | Friederich Nietzsche (via tressebleue) |
To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
“
| — | Ralph Waldo Emerson (via artpixie) (via tressebleue) |
No one else “makes us angry”. We make ourselves angry when we surrender control of our attitude. What someone else may have done is irrelevant. We choose, not they. They merely put our attitude to a test.
“
| — | Jim Rohn (via kari-shma) (via filletofish) (via instantsclassic) (via secretsabout-you) (via ratemycloset, kari-shma) (via tressebleue) |
What twisted people we are. How simple we seem, or at least pretend to be in front of others, and how twisted we are deep down. How paltry we are and how spectacularly we contort ourselves before our own eyes, and the eyes of others… And all for what? To hide what? To make people believe what?
“
| — | Roberto Bolano (via tressebleue) |
My only relief is to sleep. When I’m sleeping, I’m not sad, I’m not angry, I’m not lonely, I’m nothing.
“
| — | Jillian Medoff (via tressebleue) |
I’m not a stop along the way, I’m a destination.
“
| — | Gossip Girl Season 1 Episode 5 “Dare Devil” (via tressebleue) |
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.
“
| — | Anaïs Nin (via tressebleue) |
April, come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
May, she will stay
Resting in my arms again
June, she’ll change her tune
In restless walks, she’ll prowl the night;
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight
August, die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September I’ll remember
A love once new has now grown old
“
| — | April Come She Will by Simon & Garfunkel |
