"I love all things, not only the grand but the infinitely small: thimble, spurs, plates, flower vases…"
- Pablo Neruda (via observando)
I love the word warm.
It is almost unbearable —
so moist and breathlike.
I feel the earth like a nurse,
curing me of winter.
I feel the earth,
its worms oiling upward,
the ants ticking,
the oak leaf rotting like feces
and the oats rising like angels.
In the beginning,
summer is a sense
of this earth,
or of yourself.
- Anne Sexton, from Letters To Dr. Y. (via violentwavesofemotion)
"Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun."
- W. B. Yeats, The Wind Among the Reeds (via tri-ciclo)
"And at night I love to listen to the stars. It is like five hundred million little bells."
- Antoine de Saint Exupéry, The Little Prince (via listentothestories)
"Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them."
- Marcus Aurelius (via petrichour)
(Source: veuveperdue, via requiemforthepast)