Until the Mountain crushed my brother’s skull, no Dornishmen had died in this War of the Five Kings. Tell me, Captain, is that my shame or my glory?

(Source: tyaene, via rushinwiththefools)

I learned that just beneath the surface there’s another world, and still different worlds as you dig deeper. I knew it as a kid, but I couldn’t find the proof. It was just a kind of feeling. There is goodness in blue skies and flowers, but another force—a wild pain and decay—also accompanies everything.

David Lynch (via messedbinds)

(Source: human-voices, via messedbinds)

I never wish to be easily defined. I’d rather float over other people’s minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.

Franz Kafka (via wordsnquotes)

(via wordsnquotes)

Terrible Love - The National
It takes an ocean not to break

(Source: play-listings)

drunktrophywife:

porkrub:

i love season two of ointb so far!

Piper looks so good here

(via the-average-gatsby)

How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?

Virginia Woolf, Selected Essays. (via wordsnquotes)

(via wordsnquotes)

lovingsylvia:

Sylvia and Ted “interrupted in a spat,” Chalot Square, London, July 25, 1960 photographed by Hans Beacham for a portfolio of images of British writers

"They were sullen. Hughes was rude. He was going to get more attention than she, and she didn’t like that while he did. He invited me outside and told me I needed to know that he loathed photographers". Hughes particularly wanted to keep Plath out of the way. "His wish, of course, forced me to photograph them together", Beacham said; and later; Hughes acknowledged that he had been "an ogre."

—Diane Middlebrook, Her Husband: Hughes and Plath-a Marriage, 2003

(via belleoftheboulevarde)

elephant6collective:

Neutral Milk Hotel | I Love How You Love Me (Phil Spector cover) | Live in Auckland, NZ

I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?

Ernest Hemingway (via esnifandosentimientos)

(via esnifandosentimientos)

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.

Ernest Hemingway, born this day in 1899 (via doubledaybooks)

o-u-i-s-c-h:

Velouria, Pixies (1990)

audreyheckburn:

“There are two qualities that make fiction. One is the sense of mystery and the other is the sense of manners. You get the manners from the texture of existence that surrounds you. The great advantage of being a Southern writer is that we don’t have to go anywhere to look for manners; bad or good, we’ve got them in abundance. We in the South live in a society that is rich in contradiction, rich in irony, rich in contrast, and particularly rich in its speech”                                                  
                               -Flannery O'Connor
N O V E L S / N O V E L L A S

S H O R T  S T O R I E S

P O E T R Y

(via rabhelpants)

(Source: galacticowboy, via calm--reposed)

musicstomyears:

Lana Del Rey - Shades Of Cool

My baby lives in shades of blue
Blue eyes and jazz and attitude

I don’t want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (via wordsnquotes)

(via wordsnquotes)