There is a moment when all hope disappears, all pride is gone, all expectation, all faith, all desire. I own that moment. It belongs to me. That's when I hear the sound. The sound of a mind breaking.

- shatter


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My heart was too big for my body, so I let it go.
Anis Mojgani, Come Closer (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

The true magic of this broken world lay in the ability of the things it contained to vanish, to become so thoroughly lost, that they might never have existed in the first place.
Michael Chabon, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

(Source: hanunishi)

Creation which cannot express itself becomes madness.

Anaïs Nin

(via louxosenjoyables)

(Source: kerryquotesquotes)

05:25 pm, reblogged from The Antidote by tranceoxide2,110 notes

An empty space is marked off with plain wood and plain walls, so that the light drawn into it forms dim shadows within emptiness. There is nothing more. And yet, when we gaze into the darkness that gathers behind the crossbeam, around the flower vase, beneath the shelves, though we know perfectly well it is mere shadow, we are overcome with the feeling that in this small corner of the atmosphere there reigns complete and utter silence; that here in the darkness immutable tranquility holds sway. The "mysterious Orient" of which Westerners speak probably refers to the uncanny silence of these dark places. And even we as children would feel an inexpressible chill as we peered into the depths of an alcove to which the sunlight had never penetrated. Where lies the key to this mystery? Ultimately it is in the magic of shadows. Were the shadows to be banished from its corners, the alcove would in that instant revert to mere void.

— Jun’ichirõ Tanizaki, In Praise of Shadows (via fuckyeahexistentialism)

I came to a point where I needed solitude and just stop the machine of ‘thinking’ and ‘enjoying’ what they call ‘living’, I just wanted to lie in the grass and look at the clouds.

Jack Kerouac

(via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

05:09 pm, reblogged from The Antidote by tranceoxide173 notes

…and because the light will enlarge your days, your dreams at night will be as strange as the jars of octopus you saw once in a fisherman’s boat under the summer moon…
Robert Hass, “Late Spring,” A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry (New York: Harcourt Bracy & Company), 27. (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

Memories and thoughts age, just as people do. But certain thoughts can never age, and certain memories can never fade.
Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (via mademoisellefreedom)

04:59 am, reblogged from Haruki Murakami by tranceoxide106 notes

The loveliest things in life are but shadows; they come and go, and change and fade away…
Charles Dickens, Martin Chuzzlewit (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

No permanence is ours, we are a wave that flows to fit whatever form it finds.”

― Hermann Hesse

09:41 am, by tranceoxide

Ultimately, we have just one moral duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves, more and more peace, and to reflect it toward others. And the more peace there is in us, the more peace there will also be in our troubled world.

Etty Hillesum

(via adichotomyof)

09:40 am, reblogged from The Antidote by tranceoxide219 notes

Live or die, but don’t poison everything.

Violence does not always take visible form, and not all wounds gush blood.
Haruki Murakami, 1Q84.  (via wordsnquotes)

08:51 am, reblogged from Haruki Murakami by tranceoxide200 notes

Drop upon drop, silence falls. It forms on the roof of the mind and falls into pools beneath. For ever alone, alone, alone, - hear silence fall and sweep its rings to the farthest edges.
Virginia Woolf, The Waves (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

We’re the echo
of all the words
we never said.
n.s. white (via nathanielstuart)