I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be.
I saw that you were perfect and so I loved you. Then I saw that you were not perfect and I loved you even more.
Unknown (via twistymaven)
Yep…about how it usually works in my world too.
“Must love decorating for holidays, mischief, kissing in cars, and wind chimes. No specific height, weight, hair color, or political affiliation required but would prefer a warm spirited non racist. Cynics, critics, pessimists, and “stick in the muds” need not apply. Voluptuous figures a plus. Any similarity in look, mind set, or fashion sense to Mary Poppins, Claire Huxtable, Snow White, or Elvira Wholeheartedly welcomed. I am dubious of actresses, fellons and lesbians but don’t want to rule them out entirely. Must be tolerant of whistling, tickle torture, James Taylor, and sleeping late. I have a slight limp, eerily soft hands, and a preternatural love of autumn. I once misinterpreted being called a coal-eyed dandy as a compliment when it was intended as an insult. I wiggle my feet in my sleep, am scared of the dark, and think the Muppets Christmas Carol is one of the greatest films of all time. All I want is butterfly kisses in the morning, peanut butter sandwiches shaped like a heart, and to make you smile until it hurts.”
-Matthew Gray Gubler, on his perfect woman.
Even better in person than his character on Criminal Minds! #Love
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There are parenthesis in life that when you look back, seem wonderfully fuzzy. Bits that haunt your mind in impulses, not in any particular order but randomly splendid, as if suggesting it may have been pure fantasy. And you have to ask yourself, was I actually there…and was it really that magical?
The answer whispers its name, ignoring that you can’t afford to veer off into indulging it. And it’s more productive to blame your imagination for taking full advantage of its play time and getting a little carried away, than to admit the dream in fact, was Real and is Over. To hint at such suffocates even your will to move.
So you file away memories that further define you and lock up tangible proofs, plunging into one of the many delusions we all nurture. Confining them to the peripherals of your mind lends the ability to continue past existence onto actual living. There they sit, unstirred and disregarded, yet unable to dissolve into non-existence.
And you continue to survive, like you have countless times before.
guys come on. this picture got FIVE reblogs, while a picture of lips with no caption of mine got over 4,000. this isn’t right. reblog this. even if you delete it in a day, it could help. this is one of my best friend’s sisters. she’s dearly missed and i’d appreciate the help.
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Wandering through the events of this life, one of the hardest things to keep is that spark of naive wonder at the pretty underneath the ugly. Hiding it is the easiest way to prevent the world from so eagerly stomping it out. Concealing it so thoroughly that its existence remains as only a shadow.
Until you find that person who sees rather than looks. Who embraces all that you are and the more that you’re not while gradually fitting into the spaces, confident to remain separately bound yet woven together until the voids that were are no longer. Who inspires, nurtures, and validates the journey.
When it comes to that person, protecting yourself feels like chaining your soul. And that discovery births the courage to grant a freedom that existed only in the fantasies of your boldest moments. Freedom to be fascinated with the beauty in others and more importantly, to allow them to appreciate that which lies in you, too.
Only then will you dare to be seen.
Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
A half-truth is the most cowardly of lies.
And that’s the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.
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