All the Gods are Bastards
» dogs don't understand basic concepts like moving

literally crying at my desk because i am laughing so hard


Dragline: Why you got to go and say fifty eggs for? Why not thirty-five or thirty-nine?  Luke: I thought it was a nice round number.

Dragline: Why you got to go and say fifty eggs for? Why not thirty-five or thirty-nine?
Luke: I thought it was a nice round number.


Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles - Brick City Love Song


beautiful i am currently listening to this over and over and over


sayid, i miss you.

lost, i miss you. i will forget your ending so that that’s possible.

sayid, i miss you.

lost, i miss you. i will forget your ending so that that’s possible.


halloween in harlem, amy stein photography
(took me a while to get over feeling sorry for all the kiddies trick or treating at bodegas when i first moved here.)

click it to see more

halloween in harlem, amy stein photography

(took me a while to get over feeling sorry for all the kiddies trick or treating at bodegas when i first moved here.)

click it to see more


this is why helen mirren is “still hot”, people

this is why helen mirren is “still hot”, people


i still love you, girl. and love you more after this. bad ass!


pretty.

theworldwelivein:

Red Roof | Gangnam-gu, Bongeunsa, Seoul, Korea, Asia©  黒忍者

pretty.

theworldwelivein:

Red Roof | Gangnam-gu, Bongeunsa, Seoul, Korea, Asia
©  黒忍者

This is your walk and this is your moment and this is your time capsule, says the city every evening… This is the moment when you can take me and mold me and make me in your image, and I’ll be what you wish and I’ll take after all your wants and whims, I’ll woo you if I have to till you get used to me and love me. But after that I’ll harden into what you see now and what you want now, and I may never change again. Buildings will come and go, and today’s movie theaters will be gone soon enough, you will grow older too, but come the evening of every day, you’ll find me as you find me now, waiting for you to step out into the speckled evening to recall, once again, as ever again, that you and I are of one kind. This is your New York.
Writer Andre Aciman who arrived in 1968, from “my first New York”:
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