Until you start trying, I won’t.

— Six word story, July 26, 2014 (258/365)

Sometimes you end up never speaking to someone who meant the world to you again. And that’s okay. You cope and you survive. Don’t let your losses keep you back from new gains.

— I wish someone had told me this when I was hurting, y.g. (via imtiredofbeingsosad)

Be committed, not attached. But more importantly, know the difference.

— Kai, Lessons in Life #21 (via reclusieve)

If you can see a future without me and that doesn’t break your heart then we’re not doing what I thought we were doing here.

— That 70’s Show (via temperare-te)

I’m sorry I gave you everything I had without making sure you wanted it.

— Heavy (#418: April 21, 2014)

Travel is little beds and cramped bathrooms. It’s old television sets and slow Internet connections. Travel is extraordinary conversations with ordinary people. It’s waiters, gas station attendants, and housekeepers becoming the most interesting people in the world. It’s churches that are compelling enough to enter. It’s McDonald’s being a luxury. It’s the realization that you may have been born in the wrong country. Travel is a smile that leads to a conversation in broken English. It’s the epiphany that pretty girls smile the same way all over the world. Travel is tipping 10% and being embraced for it. Travel is the same white T-shirt again tomorrow. Travel is accented sex after good wine and too many unfiltered cigarettes. Travel is flowing in the back of a bus with giggly strangers. It’s a street full of bearded backpackers looking down at maps. Travel is wishing for one more bite of whatever that just was. It’s the rediscovery of walking somewhere. It’s sharing a bottle of liquor on an overnight train with a new friend. Travel is ‘Maybe I don’t have to do it that way when I get back home.

— Nick Miller, Isn’t It Pretty to Think So?   (via t-e-l-e-p-a-t-h-y)

It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

Jack Kerouac (via flowerbrain)

kaliforhnia:

Why is it the person that makes me the happiest also makes me the saddest?