Of course, you never really forget anyone, but you certainly release them. You stop allowing their history to have any meaning for you today. You let them change their haircut, let them move, let them fall in love again. And when you see this person you have let go, you realize that there is no reason to be sad. The person you knew exists somewhere, but you are separated by too much time to reach them again.
Chelsea Fagan, How We Let People Go (via 366quotes)

Read more than you write. In expressing the ambition to be a writer, you are committing yourself to the community of other writers. Your originality will mean nothing unless you can understand the originality of others. What we call originality is little more than the fine blending of influences.

Be ruthless in your use of what you’ve seen and what you’ve experienced. Add your imagination, so that where invention ends and reality begins is undetectable.

Be courageous. Nothing human should be far from you.

(Source: sandandglass)

Be good to people. Even the shitty ones. Let the assholes be assholes. You’ll sleep better.
Adam Gnade (via bl-ossomed)

(Source: theanneswer)

I wake up wanting to kill myself,
I go to bed wondering why I didn’t.
(via madame-morte)

(Source: blackandwhiteshxt)

I cannot remember the books I’ve read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (via observando)

Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
Andrea Gibson, excerpt from “Bone Burying” (via feellng)

(Source: wallflowerbloom)

I am constantly torn between wanting to improve myself and wanting to destroy myself.
(via iamnotthesociopath)

Wear your tragedies as armor, not shackles.
Anonymous (via facina-oris)

(Source: shutupaubrey)

Nothing I can sing
will bring you back.
Not the songs of a hundred horses running
until they become wind
Not the personal song of the rain
who makes love to the earth.
Joy Harjo, ‘Songs from the House of Death, or How to Make it Through to the End of a Relationship’ (via injusticeworth)

She was a compulsive pessimist, always looking for the soft brown spot in the fruit, pressing so hard she created it.
Amy Waldman, The Submission (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

What stories can do, I guess, is make things present.

I can look at things I never looked at. I can attach faces to grief and love and pity and God. I can be brave. I can make myself feel again.

The Things They Carried - Tim O’Brien (via lanskyed)




i love this fucking quote so fucking much

Frick that’s beautiful

As a realist, I can 100% confirm.

(Source: jonwithabullet)

I am pro-gay rights and pro-choice, simply because it is none of my damn business how others choose to live their lives.
(via 70sgroupie)

(Source: cat4president)