1. 11:22 18th Jun 2013

    Notes: 17

    Reblogged from blueiswrongforroses

    image: Download

    (Source: fammori)

     

  2. 21:25 17th Jun 2013

    Notes: 1554

    Reblogged from thisinsignificantlife

    image: Download

    oldbookillustrations: Frederick Cayley Robinson, frontispiece from The blue bird, by Maurice Maeterlinck, New York, 1920. (Source: archive.org)

    oldbookillustrations:

    Frederick Cayley Robinson, frontispiece from The blue bird, by Maurice Maeterlinck, New York, 1920.

    (Source: archive.org)

     

  3. 21:21

    Notes: 14

    Reblogged from bobofeed

    bobofeed:

    Lutkemeerweg by MAS architectuur

     

  4. 08:22

    Notes: 556

    Reblogged from thisinsignificantlife

    image: Download

    (Source: bananasforbooks)

     

  5. 08:20

    Notes: 240

    Reblogged from bobofeed

    image: Download

    bobofeed: musesofdesign: (via et_100613_02 » CONTEMPORIST)

    bobofeed:

    musesofdesign: (via et_100613_02 » CONTEMPORIST)

     

  6. 05:49 16th Jun 2013

    Notes: 5825

    Reblogged from bulans

    i am not yours.
    i did not make the long hard journey through and across the spirit world
    to
    be a man’s ocean.
    my body is not yours.
    my mouth is not yours.
    my water is not yours.
    nothing i am belongs to you
    unless i decide
    to
    open my hand
    and
    give it to you.
    — birthmarks, nayyirah waheed (via nayyirahwaheed)
     

  7. 21:05 15th Jun 2013

    Notes: 25536

    Reblogged from bobofeed

    image: Download

    (Source: Flickr / kmariewelch)

     

  8. 21:04

    Notes: 8374

    Reblogged from noxastra

     

  9. 21:03

    Notes: 29031

    Reblogged from delicatebloem

    ‎Close your eyes & imagine the best version of you possible. That’s who you really are, let go of any part of you that doesn’t believe it.
    — C. Assaad (via sylphwings)

    (Source: pigcharmer)

     

  10. 21:02

    Notes: 262

    Reblogged from delicatebloem

    I thought the earth remembered me,
    she took me back so tenderly,
    arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
    full of lichens and seeds.
    I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
    nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
    but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
    among the branches of the perfect trees.
    All night I heard the small kingdoms
    breathing around me, the insects,
    and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
    All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
    grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
    I had vanished at least a dozen times
    into something better.
    — Mary Oliver - “Sleeping in the Forest”  (via sylphwings)

    (Source: birdsong217)