itineraries
Itineraries
Carissa, 20, Manila.Always, always longing.Twitter • Figuratives • Last.fm
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Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.
Dalai Lama (via vinnana)
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People usually think they have to wear themselves out, they have to grind themselves down, they have to run themselves ragged, chasing after serenity. They forget that peace is the grace of the heart. Whenever the haze that normally clouds your perception gives way and you see your own Self clearly, even for a moment, you experience the most exquisite peace rising up within you. Peace is not as rare as you have been led to believe.
Gurumayi Chidvilasananda, “Inner Treasures”
(via shaktilover, toynbeeconvector)
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“A perfect poem is impossible. Once it had been written, the world would end.” —Robert Graves
Portrait by Mati Klarwei.
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How [could I forget you]? I have lived a full life here. I have not been trampled on, I have not been petrified. I have not been excluded from every glimpse of what is bright. I have known you, Mr. Rochester, and it strikes me with anguish to be torn from you. ... I've become nothing to you! Am I a machine without feelings? Do you think that because I am poor, obscure, plain and little that I am soulless and heartless? I have as much soul as you and full as much heart! And if God had blessed me with beauty and wealth, I could make it as hard for you to leave me as it is for I to leave you. I'm not speaking to you through mortal flesh. It is my spirit that addresses your spirit. As if we'd passed through the grave and stood at God's feet equal. As we are!
Jane Eyre, Jane Eyre (2011)
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I dragged through life a capital error. Its consequence blights my existence for years. I've sought to escape it. This spring I came home, heart sore and soul withered. And I met a gentle stranger, whose society revives me. With her I feel I could live again, in a higher, purer way. Tell me. Am I justified in overleaping an obstacle of custom to attain her?
Fairfax Rochester, Jane Eyre (2011)
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I just woke up from the sound of heavy rain, the kind so loud that memories of a storm five years past rushes back like alluvion, the kind that makes you fear how others cannot be rescued. Thunder folds into this country rumbling, can you still hear yourself think. The rain is bombarding everything. Even sound, even your thoughts. It is already Thursday and the rain has not stopped since Monday night. I am already inclined to qualify this rain. This is unfair. What did we ever do to deserve this. I live in a country where people can still smile in a flood. I know. But isn't this already unfair? Is it already unfair.
In Focus: Monsoon Rain Floods Manila
The capital city of the Philippines has been drenched by heavy, deadly rainfall for 11 days now, beginning with the arrival of Typhoon Saola last week, leading to mudslides and extensive flooding. About 60 percent of Manila is currently flooded, and authorities are reporting 72 deaths so far. Nearly 850,000 remain stranded or displaced, as residents wait for a break in the downpour, predicted to begin on Thursday.
See more. [Images: Ted Aljibe/AFP/Getty Images, AP Photo/Aaron Favila, Jay Directo/AFP/Getty Images]
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Take Care — Drake feat. Rihanna
"You hate the fact that you bought the dream when they sold you one."
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I don’t believe in the infinite ability of the reason, or the rational. I believe in it only insofar as it takes me to the irrational—and this is what I need it for, to take me as far as I can get toward the irrational. There it abandons you. For a little while it creates a state of panic. But this is where the revelations are dwelling—not that you may fish them out. But at least I have been given two or three revelations, or at least they have landed on the edge of reason and left their mark.
Joseph Brodsky, The Art of Poetry No. 28
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During the process of writing—I think these are the better hours—of deepening, of furthering the thing. You’re kind of entitled to things you didn’t know were out there. That’s what language brings you to, perhaps.
Joseph Brodsky, The Art of Poetry No. 28
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