For the love of literature
We travel for romance, we travel for architecture, and we travel to be lost.
Ray Bradbury (via wishbonesandwanderlust)
The darker the night, the brighter the stars.
Fyodor Dostoevsky  (via k4nt)
Don’t blame the world for being empty when the only stars you stare at every night are on your television screen

Stockholm Public Library by Franck Vervial 
milkshakesandheartaches:

“The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of the infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.” 
~ H.P. Lovecraft

milkshakesandheartaches:

“The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of the infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.” 

~ H.P. Lovecraft

artsandpleasures:

Municipal Library, Lima, Peru

artsandpleasures:

Municipal Library, Lima, Peru

Candida Hofer - Libraries (published 2005)

No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.
Nelson Mandela  (via justinpoole)
I prefer a church which is bruised, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets, rather than a church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security.
Pope Francis (via sunyoungwrites)
Do not fall in love with a poet. They will turn you into metaphors and rewrite you so many times, you won’t know who you are anymore. Also, they lie too beautifully.
(via connotativewords)
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Abraham Lincoln 

November 19, 1863

(via justinpoole)

I’m not a stranger,” I said, and pointed to his book. “I’m someone who reads the same authors you do.
Lemony Snicket (via amandaonwriting)
Its dangerous if you go it alone

justinpoole:

Late night lights in New York City.  A thousand voices in a hundred languages.  Constant motion and intense passion.

She can smell it on the perfume of the monsters that surround her in this dark part of the big city dream.  Humid oppression clinging to her like a 200 pound Mexican maids blouse as she scrubs the kitchen floor of an air conditioner-less apartment in August.  

Its another soulless party where shes just a faceless girl in a rented dress with meaningless emotions who won’t exist in the real world after tonight.  She rummages through her purse looking for the pack of cigarettes she’s been keeping on hand for emergency situations.  She pulls one out and waves off seven potential flames before she has a chance to pull out her own.  

A match flares and she leans towards it like a moth pulled in by the aroma.  She allows him to light her up.  She knows she will regret this decision in the morning.  But as for now all she can see is blue and its staring right through her body.  She feels the betrayal travel up her veins and into her lungs.  She breathes in the poison and lets intoxication prevail.

With every drink a business card and behind every smile a story no one will remember by morning.  Just play the politics if you want to get ahead.  And if you’re not ahead then you’re behind and everybody knows this town is where losers go to die.  Its not the nice guy who finishes last in this town.  Its the one with the least connections.  So she digs in deep and does her best not to blow her cover.  Its all on table tonight.

In this world you’ve gotta fake it until you make it.