a flower cannot blossom without sunshine

I think everything in life is art. What you do, how you dress, the way you love someone, and how you talk. Your smile and your personality, what you believe in, and all your dreams. The way you drink your tea, how you decorate your home, or party; your grocery list, the food you make, how your writing looks, and the way you feel. Life is art. -m.z.

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"Eran amantes eternos, buscarse y encontrarse una y otra vez era su karma."
- "Retrato en sepia" - Isabel Allende.  (via amordecolor)

(Source: viejaculturafrita, via alejandriwi)

here’s your daily reminder that

  • you aren’t worthless
  • you’re worth more than you think you are
  • you mean a lot to someone
  • you’ve done something to make someone laugh or smile
  • you’ve laughed and smiled
  • you’re good enough
  • you deserve to be happy
  • you’re allowed to be sad
  • you’re you and nothing can change that
  • and there’s no one else you need to be

(Source: jaclcfrost, via yourborderlinepersonality)

"You’re told that you’re in your head too much, a phrase that’s often deployed against the quiet and cerebral. Or maybe there’s another word for such people: thinkers."
- Susan Cain, Quiet (via emiliahn)

(Source: larmoyante, via sunst0ne)

"

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

"
- It’s not that I don’t love you.   (via elauxe)

(Source: extrasad, via elauxe)

"Please know there are much better things in life than being lonely or liked or bitter or mean or self-conscious. We are all full of shit. Go love someone just because; I know your heart may be badly bruised, or even the victim of numerous knifings, but it will always heal, even if you don’t want it to; it keeps going. There are the most fantastic, beautiful things and people out there, I promise. It is up to you to find them."
- Chuck Palahniuk  (via cultivate-solitude)

(Source: hellanne, via flotes)

"Try to love yourself as much as you want someone else to."
- my english teacher (via flotes)

(Source: snorlaxatives, via flotes)