"Everything in nature is lyrical in its ideal existence, tragic in its fate, and comic in its existence."

George Santayana (via apoetreflects)

"Goodness me, the clock has struck—
Alackaday, and fuck my luck."

Slaughterhouse-Five (via violetlight) (via fuckyeahkurtvonnegut, drinkdarjeeling)

"The final mystery is oneself. When one has weighed the sun in the balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself. Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul?"

Oscar Wilde, De Profundis (via likeafieldmouse)

posthawk:

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

"The truth is that nobody is owed an apology for anything. Apologies are lovely when they happen. But they change nothing. They do not reverse actions or correct damage. They are merely nice to hear."

Burroughs, Augusten. This is How. (via llogicas)

"…for the moment the main thing is to get what little happiness there is out of life in this war torn world because “these are the good old days” now."

Clare Boothe Luce, in a letter to her daughter Ann

"We’re all shipwrecked on this idea that everything has to be explained."

Shane Koyczan, Atlantis (via splitterherzen)

"Time ticks by; we grow older. Before we know it, too much time has passed and we’ve missed the chance to have had other people hurt us. To a younger me this sounded like luck; to an older me this sounds like a quiet tragedy."

Douglas Coupland, Life After God (via durianquotes)