Some people live as though they are already dead. There are people moving around us who are consumed by their past, terrified of their future, and stuck in their anger and jealousy. They are not alive; they are just walking corpses.

 Thích Nhất Hạnh (via purplebuddhaproject)

(via purplebuddhaproject)

(via thatkindofwoman)

Do the truth quietly without display.

Brennan Manning  (via sunday-quiet)

(via sunday-quiet)

lostandfoundtravels:

One of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

Salt Flats, Bolivia

There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these three trembling cities the greatest is the last — the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high-strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion. And whether it is a farmer arriving from Italy to set up a small grocery store in slum, or a young girl arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference: each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh eyes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company.

E.B. White, from "Here is New York" (via paradoxicalsentiments)

(via paradoxicalsentiments)

architizer:

We wrote your packing list (survival kit) for architecture school. Read more.

(via architectura)

wnderlst:

Anarstarpi, Iceland | Jens Klettenheimer

(via dreamanddiscover)

I travel alone to countries in Africa and Asia. I travel with friends to cities like London or Rome. I still travel with my grandparents and parents and I treasure all these moments, covet all these memories.

I marvel at the things my eyes have been allowed to see. At the sand my feet have been allowed to walk on.
Red in Togo. White in Thailand. Black in Tenerife.

I still have dirt beneath my fingernails, scratches on my arms and bruises on my legs. And yet, I wear heels as well. I put on lipstick and wear a dress to head out for a glamorous night in the city.

It never has to be either or. It can be both. Always. Life is about balance and I hope I will always be able to keep this.