(Source: racheldashae, via flyawaytotheparis)
by Max Capacity
(Source: dietonightlive4eva)
There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours.
—Jean-Paul Sartre (via f0xfur)
(Source: pigmenting, via tasiturn)
Kristen photographed by Vanessa Jackman
the sirens call, the dark
ignited with electricity
a current surging through
every pore in the cracked skin
of the earth. the world stills
every hair on end
sparks, fire, dust, wind
trees fold and sway,
the roar of thunder
through blackened cloud
and stinging rain, the storm
grows, building like a choir
until waves of sound
dip into a subtle hush
on the glowing horizon
wide-eyed and gaping
we look on in silence
to remember we still
have breath in our lungs
(via theclotheshorse)
Audrey of Frassy
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, past temples and castles and poets towers into a dark primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through miasmal and mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone, and down again into a deep vast ancient unknown chasm where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled cliffs, where deer walk across the white sand beaches, where storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the high crags, where something strange and more beautiful and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams waits for you — beyond that next turning of the canyon walls.
—Edward Abbey (via theclotheshorse)
(Source: quote-book, via theclotheshorse)
(Source: dead-in-wonderland)
taj mahal by (colin roohan)
(Source: wgsn)
(via the-chungster)
(via the-chungster)
josephine skriver
