Introverts are collectors of thoughts, and solitude is where the collection is curated and rearranged to make sense of the present and future.

Helgoe, Laurie. “Revenge of the Introvert.“ Psychology Today.  (via wordsnquotes)
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(It) was like the old philosophical conundrum about the tree that falls in the forest. The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.

Annie Dillard (via thatsyourgold)
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Would you become a pilgrim on the road of love? The first condition is that you make yourself humble as dust and ashes.

— Rumi

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We limit ourselves when we adopt specific identities, and then believe that this is truly who we are and must be.

H.H. the Karmapa (via thecalminside)
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Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen

Leonardo da Vinci (via renaissance-art)
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Old loves. They enter your thoughts unexpectedly, like a flash of summer lightning at night. They blast open a part of the sky pure phosphorescent white a moment, and then are gone.

Jonathan Carroll
(via quotebook-in)
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