The oddest things hurt me. They get stuck in my head and replay over and over.
Unknown  (via unlively)

(Source: teitokukakine)

neptunain:

i wish there wasn’t a stigma about doing things alone. you can’t go out to eat alone, you can’t see a movie alone, basically anything fun, you’re looked down on for doing alone and it’s so stupid you shouldn’t need other people to validate your decisions

don’t call me beautiful
i don’t care
call me intelligent
tell me my laugh is contagious;
that i made you smile
tell me i have something to offer

(via libraryquiet)

(Source: alert)

This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety. Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals—sounds that say listen to this, it is important.

Gary Provost (via tuongexists)

Holy crap, what just happened there… (via cyrusgabriel)

Words, man. Words.

(via bookoisseur)

(Source: qmsd)