They all tell her not to fight fire with fire,
but that is only because they are afraid of her flames.
William Saroyan
“When you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.”
Birthday, Andrea Gibson (via prewars)
“I suppose I love this life,

in spite of my clenched fist.

I open my palm and my lifelines look like branches from an Aspen tree,
and there are songbirds perched on the tips of my fingers,
and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath
the first time his fingers touched the keys
the same way a soldier holds his breath
the first time his finger clicks the trigger.
We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.”
Cameron Jace - Snow White Sorrow (via ingeniosa)
“Stare at the dark too long and you will eventually see what isn’t there”
Fernando Pessoa
“Ah! the anguish, the vile rage, the despair
Of not being able to express
With a shout, an extreme and bitter shout,
The bleeding of my heart!”
“Your mother did not raise you with a wolf in your chest so you could howl over losing a man.”
Ilse Lehiste  (via feverfuckery)
“No matter how much you feed the wolf, he keeps looking at the forest”
Jean-Paul Sartre
“Smooth and smiling faces everywhere, but ruin in their eyes.”

You are a monster.

I give you my heart but this is what I get.

My lips are red from the bite of your teeth
My skin burns, caused by the fire called your hands
My heart is an open wound from an irreparable tear
You say you don’t love me but your claws refuse to let go

You are a monster, so you won’t
So I’ve decided to let you stay
Tears morphed to steel
Emotions twisted to armor

My heart still beats red, but no longer hurts for you
I grab your hands with just as much fire as you do
You start to attack less
Celebrating in the response that’s been given to you

More twisted grins, lesser cruel snarls
More somewhat welcome mornings than long nights in cages
I learn how you work and revel in how well I’ve worked you
Spirit burns fiery red not cool blue

You’re a monster
But I have tamed you

Or have I become one too?

Jorge Luis Borges, “Ragnarök” (trans. Andrew Hurley)
“We drew our heavy revolvers (suddenly in the dream there were revolvers) and exultantly killed the gods.”
Emil Cioran (via tri-ciclo)
“Man starts over again everyday, in spite of all he knows, against all he knows.”