“I want to live An erotic life Aligned
with The orgasms Of earth. Bloom like a Flower and Rise like the Sun.”
William Shakespeare, Hamlet
(via amargedom)
(Source: Amargedom, via naturaekos)
We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
Lost In Translation
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(Source: naturaekos, via naturaekos)
The more you know who you are and what you want, the less you let things upset you.
Carl Sagan (via amortizing)
(Source: amortizing, via naturaekos)
A book is made from a tree. It is an assemblage of flat, flexible parts (still called “leaves”) imprinted with dark pigmented squiggles. One glance at it and you hear the voice of another person, perhaps someone dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, the author is speaking, clearly and silently, inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another. Books break the shackles of time ― proof that humans can work magic.
Jorge Luis Borges, After a While
(via goodreadss)
(via naturaekos)
So you plant your own garden and
decorate your own soul, instead of waiting
for someone to bring you flowers.