The pen will never be able to move fast enough to write down every word discovered in the space of memory. Some things have been lost forever, other things will perhaps be remembered again, and still other things have been lost and found and lost again. There is no way to be sure of any this.
Paul Auster, The Invention of Solitude (via a-perfect-day-for-kangaroos)

11 notes

somestrangeway:

realfart:

this should be an oil painting

I’d buy it.

somestrangeway:

realfart:

this should be an oil painting

I’d buy it.

9,637 notes

No one HAS to do something he doesn’t want to do for the rest of his life. But then again, if that’s what you wind up doing, by all means convince yourself that you HAD to do it. You’ll have lots of company.

30 notes

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oxytocinrush:

Matt and Kim- Daylight

7,481 notes