(Source: fire-in-the-aviary)

Words are a medium that reduces reality to abstraction for transmission to our reason, and in their power to corrode reality inevitably lurks the danger that the words will be corroded too. It might be more appropriate, in fact, to liken their action to excessive stomach fluids that digest and gradually eat away the stomach itself.
Many people will express disbelief that such a process could already be at work in a person’s earliest years. But that, beyond doubt, is what happened to me personally, thereby laying the ground for two contradictory tendencies within myself. One was the determination to press ahead loyally with the corrosive function of words, and to make that my life’s work. The other was the desire to encounter reality in some field where words should play no part at all.

Yukio Mishima, Sun and Steel (via liberumarbitriumindifferentiae)

(via 4thsoul)

(Source: fourstories, via tremblingcolors)

We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That’s as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.

Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man’s Fear (via damatris)

(via tremblingcolors)

iamafencer:

Ilkka Hartikainen, Finland

iamafencer:

Ilkka Hartikainen, Finland

(Source: strongoftheblade, via tremblingcolors)

One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one’s death, one dies one’s life.

Jean-Paul Sartre (via sisyphean-revolt)

(via philossofos)

atrophase:

James Caroll Beckwith - L’empereur

atrophase:

James Caroll Beckwith - L’empereur

(Source: qof, via aeqvilibrivm)

(Source: brutalgeneration, via la---haine)

oldrussia:

Kazan Cathedral

oldrussia:

Kazan Cathedral

(via midnightineurope)

(via dangleee)

(Source: swordreign, via midnightineurope)

yama-bato:

Ansel Adams: Waterfall, Northern Cascades, Washington, 1960 (Courtesy Center for Creative Photography, ©2012 The Ansel Adams Publishing Rights Trust)
via

yama-bato:

Ansel Adams: Waterfall, Northern Cascades, Washington, 1960 (Courtesy Center for Creative Photography, ©2012 The Ansel Adams Publishing Rights Trust)

via

(via luniversale)

The trend toward feudal-romantic fantasy may seem harmless. Heck, I enjoy Tolkien and steam punk and some of the best fantasists. But dreaming wistfully about kings and lords and secretive, domineering wizards is a sugary path that leads ultimately to betrayal. Because kings and lords and wizards were never our friends! Indeed, for most of history they were the chief plague destroying hope for humankind. Oh, some kings and wizards were less bad than others. But they were all “dark lords.” Our fixation on them is a legacy of the 10,000 years in which feudalism reigned, when chieftains controlled the fables by ordering the bards what to sing about. A long, grinding era when humanity got nowhere. When the strong took all the women and wheat, and forced everyone else to recite fables about how right it was.

David Brin (via azspot)

(via circularfire)

(Source: skeletaltales, via silver-blonde)