Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.
Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
- Pablo Neruda
, from “Here I Love You,” in Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
(Penguin, 1993) (via apoetreflects
(Source: oofpoetry, via hsaptus)
Certainly the way to any end is in that end itself. For as you cannot know any study but by learning it, or gain any virtue but by practising it, so you cannot be anything but by becoming it.
- Charles Williams
, Many Dimensions
(Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing, 1931)
(Source: theatheneaum, via apoetreflects)
If they don’t need you, it’s okay, you do not live for other people.
- Kyo (via -chinmoku
(Source: a-knot, via spookwitch)
You remember too much,
my mother said to me recently.
Why hold onto all that? And I said,
Where can I put it down?
- Anne Carson, excerpt from “The Glass Essay” (via larmoyante
…and you will somehow get through
the slow days and the busy days and the dull days
and the hateful days and the rare days,
all both so delightful and so disappointing because
we are all so alike and so different.
- Charles Bukowski (via chaosoftroubles
(Source: oofpoetry, via downbythebroook)