favorite waves

these things, they happen
my ceiling the sky, my carpet the grass,
my music the lowing of herds as they pass;
my books are the brooks, my sermons the stones,
my parson’s a wolf on a pulpit of bones.
allen mccanless (cowboy poet), 1885 (via cosmic-dust)
(via smut-to-go)
(via smut-to-go)
(via smut-to-go)
The mythologist Joseph Campbell was asked by an interviewer how a regular person could preserve his sense of the mythic when so many feel too besieged by the claims of every day living. He said, “You must have a place to which you can go, in your heart, in your mind, or your house, almost every day, where you do not know what you owe anyone or what anyone owes you. You must have a place you can go to where you do not know what your work is or who you work for, where you do not know who you are married to or who your children are. from When I Wax (via crashinglybeautiful)
Often enough God gives man a glimpse of happiness, and then utterly ruins him. Solon (in The Histories by Herodotus, Book I) (via whokilled) (via smut-to-go)
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cosmic-dust:

(via thethinkingtank)
i will reblog this until the end of time

cosmic-dust:

(via thethinkingtank)

i will reblog this until the end of time