"Writing is a way of talking without being interrupted." - Jules Renard

It’s on the tip of my tongue,
Edging out like a child from
Behind it’s mother, after a long
Life of fearsome worries about
Sweet nothings and real nothings.

But I swear to you,
I won’t say it until I know I mean it.

And if that day never comes,
Then I’ll simply say it here;
I love you, with all my heart
For the person you are.

The heart you have seems
Silver on the outside, like tin
That simply deflects everything
It comes in contact with,
But I’ve seen the gold inside.

The gold is without even a single
Scratch, not a mark,
It’s pure.

Your soul is so good;
And my soul loves yours.

Eat food from farmers markets.
Drink good tea each morning.
Read books that make you feel.
Paint, even if you’re awful.
Write, even when you have nothing to say.
Sit in the fresh air outside.
Go on hikes.
Swim in lakes and wade in streams.
Sleep as long as you need.
Work hard at what you love.
Work hard at what you hate.

Love unconditionally and wholeheartedly.

—How to stay Happy (via immeganmaria)

(Source: fingertipss, via whisperingbones)

"A man would do nothing, if he waited until he could do it so well that no one would find fault with what he has done." — Cardinal Newman


Let my spirit rise above this sea of negativity. — Michael Lipsey


Let my spirit rise above this sea of negativity. — Michael Lipsey

Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get. Life should be touched, not strangled. You’ve got to relax, let it happen at times, and at others move forward with it.

—Ray Bradbury (via thecalminside)

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.

 Richard Siken (via feellng)

(via whisperingbones)