you could hit me with a car and i’d still say sorry
(Source: mako, via falling-slower)
- Conor Oberst (via mrssalinger)
(Source: wordswithinyou, via mrssalinger)
- Alan Watts (via wordsthat-speak)
(via thecomedowwn)
- (via i-partywithgatsby)
(Source: uptownbackinit, via thecomedowwn)
- Coretta Scott King (via samirathejerk)
(Source: samiracortez, via universalequalityisinevitable)
When I went out to kill myself, I caught
A pack of hoodlums beating up a man.
Running to spare his suffering, I forgot
My name, my number, how my day began,
How soldiers milled around the garden stone
And sang amusing songs; how all that day
Their javelins measured crowds; how I alone
Bargained the proper coins, and slipped away.
Banished from heaven, I found this victim beaten,
Stripped, kneed, and left to cry. Dropping my rope
Aside, I ran, ignored the uniforms:
Then I remembered bread my flesh had eaten,
The kiss that ate my flesh. Flayed without hope,
I held the man for nothing in my arms.
- “Saint Judas” by James Wright (via shoutucker)
(Source: nachobelgrande, via 39adamstrand)
- Josephine Hart (via fawkesface)
(Source: quote-book, via hereshecomes)