If ever my life can be of any use to you, come and claim it.

~A.P. Cekhov

“I’m sitting here thinking of all the things I wanted to apologize to you for. All the pain we caused each other. Everything I put on you. Everything I needed you to be or needed you to say. I’m sorry for that. I’ll always love you because we grew up together. You helped make me who I am. I just wanted you to know, there will be a piece of you in me always. And I’m grateful for that. Whatever someone you become and wherever you are in the world, I’m sending you love. You’re my friend to the end.”

—   Her (2013)

(Source: larmoyante, via movieonyoureyelids)

“The main thing is to be moved, to love, to hope, to tremble, to live. Be a human before being an artist.”

—   Rodin   (via lunarozsa)

(via movieonyoureyelids)

Therefore, dark past,
I’m about to do it.
I’m about to forgive you

for everything.

—   Mary Oliver, from A Settlement (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via movieonyoureyelids)

“But under the silence of what we say to each other,
is the much more articulate silence of what we don’t say to each other,
a storm of things unspoken,
coiled, reserved, appointed,
ticking away like a clock attached to a time-bomb:
crash, fire, demolition
wound up in the quietly,
almost tenderly,
small, familiar things unspoken.”

—   Tennessee Williams, A Separate Poem (via poemusicoffee)

(Source: apoetreflects, via movieonyoureyelids)

“But under the silence of what we say to each other,
is the much more articulate silence of what we don’t say to each other,
a storm of things unspoken,
coiled, reserved, appointed,
ticking away like a clock attached to a time-bomb:
crash, fire, demolition
wound up in the quietly,
almost tenderly,
small, familiar things unspoken.”

—   Tennessee Williams, A Separate Poem (via poemusicoffee)

(Source: apoetreflects, via movieonyoureyelids)

“I pity the woman who will love you
when I am done. She will show up
to your first date with a dustpan
and broom, ready to pick up all the pieces
I left you in. She will hear my name so often
it will begin to dig holes in her. That
is where doubt will grow. She will look
at your neck, your thin hips, your mouth,
wondering at the way I touched you.
She will make you all the promises I did
and some I never could. She will hear only
the terrible stories. How I drank. How I lied.
She will wonder (as I have) how someone
as wonderful as you could love a monster
like the woman who came before her. Still,
she will compete with my ghost.
She will understand why you do not look
in the back of closets. Why you are afraid
of what’s under the bed. She will know
every corner of you is haunted
by me.”

“One day, he’s going to know. He’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents names. He’ll know how old you were when you learnt to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. He’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. He’s going to know why you’re awake at 5am most nights, where you were when you realised you’d lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. He’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. He’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He’s going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dream of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. He’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s his favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organise your DVD’s alphabetically, and check your horoscope… just incase. He’ll know your McDonald’s order, how many sugars to put in your tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He’s going to know how you feel without you telling him, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. He’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? He is still going to love you.”

—   (via barbieandken)

(Source: the-taintedtruth, via kissthestarsblog)

“I need to be alone for certain periods of time or I violate my own rhythm.”

—   Lee Krasner  (via oyasumilune)

(Source: theuniversityredhead, via kissthestarsblog)

“I want a land where the sun kills questions. That would
be a home for me.”

—   Albert Camus, The Misunderstanding (via movieonyoureyelids)

“We all carry within us our places of exile, our crimes, and our ravages. But our task is not to unleash them on the world; it is to fight them in ourselves and in others.”

—   Albert Camus (via movieonyoureyelids)

“We do not think enough about pain.”

—   Albert Camus, from a letter to Jean Grenier (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via movieonyoureyelids)

“She laughed and danced with the thought of death in her heart.”

—   Hans Christian Andersen, The Little Mermaid (via aukles)

(via left-my-heart-in-paris)

“Wounding and healing are not opposites. They’re part of the same thing. It is our wounds that enable us to be compassionate with the wounds of others. It is our limitations that make us kind to the limitations of other people. It is our loneliness that helps us to to find other people or to even know they’re alone with an illness. I think I have served people perfectly with parts of myself I used to be ashamed of.”

—   Rachel Naomi Remen (via thedruidsteaparty)

(via movieonyoureyelids)

“If I have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound but mine as well.”

—   Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: splitterherzen, via movieonyoureyelids)

“You begin by creating in solitude and think it’s hard. Later on, you write and create surrounded by others. You then know that the undertaking is mad and that happiness was at the beginning.”

—   Albert Camus, Notebooks 1942-1951. (via acknowledgetheabsurd)