Nessun maggior dolore
che ricordarsi del tempo felice
ne la miseria- Inferno (V, 121-3)
There is no greater sorrow than to recall a happy time in misery.
via thesobsister
(via lifeinpoetry)
Journal of a Nobody
The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. The first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you can no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space. ~Italo Calvino
Commonplace book of a teacher, poet, and counselor.
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(Source: frenchtwist, via kinoforma)
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(via caligarianzuparadzay)
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Memory is a poet, don’t make it a historian
(via emptyingfaces)
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I think I’d give almost anything on earth to see you writing a something, an anything — a story, a poem, a tree, that was really and truly after your own heart.
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Otto Dix, Frau mit Roten Hut (Woman with Red Hat), 1921
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Wassily Kandinsky, Small Worlds X, 1922
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But remembering those moments, I still stand in ecstasy, inhaling through the noise of falling rain, the smell of invisible, enduring lilacs
— Marcel Proust (via iloverainandcoffee)(Source: ladymycroft, via thecracksinthewall)
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“I Am an Educator” | Manal Al Dowayan
Each photograph I take is like a part of my soul, and I’d like that to outlive me.
(via 2turtlestumbling)
