"Such is the power of imagination, that even a chimerical pleasure in expectation affects us more than a solid pleasure in possession."

— Henry Homes (via itsquoted)

(via sentimientodivino)


They could rearrange to spell out “bread” and I would definitely still reblog this.

They could rearrange to spell out “bread” and I would definitely still reblog this.

(Source: shesgotabirthmark, via lingeringkisses)


"If you are lucky enough to find a weirdo never let them go"

Matthew Gray Gubler  (via jos-jedna-prica)

(Source: letlovefindyou33, via cyd--vicious)



khaleesiunchained:

monicalewinsky1996:

floatingpoop:

step 1: make girl laugh
step 2: make girl moan

fact: most men cant accomplish either
image

(via fatgoddess)


IT’S RAININ’ MEN

rabbit360:

not all men

(via mollysweetsies)


"I refuse to chase anyone anymore"

— (via blackbruise)

(Source: latelycravingmore, via mandyohh)


tessmunster:

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?  Why are you beset with gloom?  ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?  Bowed head and lowered eyes?  Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?  Don’t you take it awful hard ‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?  Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I’ve got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.  #Maya Angelou #rip #inspiration #feminist #heartbroken

tessmunster:

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
#Maya Angelou #rip #inspiration #feminist #heartbroken


"Your mind is your private sanctuary; do not allow the negative beliefs of others to occupy it."

— Unknown (via wingsunfurled)

(Source: onlinecounsellingcollege, via inspiredc6h12o6)