Lottie360 - Random Stuff I Like

“so maybe this bridge was always meant to burn / maybe we were handing the matches back and forth back and forth / waiting for someone to strike out / waiting for someone to say / okay this is enough / I need to see some light / I need to see some flames / let’s set this ablaze and not call the police / let’s close our eyes and run opposite ways / I think I need to get away from you for awhile / I think I need to make sure I can never come home to you again.”

— where did the fire go / it never kept us warm– lily rain

Best fucking thing I’ve ever read.

[The Queen Below - @hynpos]

“Years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute.”

— Edgar Allan Poe

i am terrified that twenty years from now i will still look back and feel an ache when i remember the boy who broke my heart all those years ago. and i’ll somehow still miss you. but for you, i’ll probably be just one of the many girls you dated when you were young. you’ll look back and only remember a foggy memory of me; my face, a blurry vision in your mind.

— i think i’ll miss you forever

history | historical women | europe

Her disintegration went down a shaft of phases, every one more racking than the last; for the human brain can become the best torture house of all those it has invented, established and used in millions of years, in millions of lands, on millions of howling creatures.

Vladimir Nabokov, Ada or Ardor: A Family Chronicle (via quotespile)

The world burned while Atlas watched (no, that isn’t right) Atlas died screaming, trying to save those he’d watched over Aphrodite is about romantic love (no, that isn’t right) Love comes in many forms but it always leaves a mark - Aphrodite Artemis fell in love once (no, that isn’t right) Artemis loved the maidens she raised, the trees, she loved all who tried Peresphone was manipulated by the King of Underworld (no, that isn’t right) Peresphone chose power, chose love, chose freedom, she chose Achilles was golden (No, that isn’t right) Achilles was rusted, bruised and bloody. He was in love

The Myths Are Wrong by Abby S (via fireandsteelofangels)

Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time. Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, which is the only fact we have. It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death—ought to decide, indeed, to earn one’s death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life. One is responsible to life: It is the small beacon in that terrifying darkness from which we come and to which we shall return. One must negotiate this passage as nobly as possible, for the sake of those who are coming after us.

James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time (via merulae)