Instalar este tema
willigula:

Wreck of the Curtiss P-40 Kittyhawk flown by RAF Flight Sergeant Dennis Copping, who was last seen leaving his airbase in North Egypt in June, 1942

“At our feet lay our valley of sand, opening into a desert of sand whose dazzling brightness seared our eyes. As far as the eye could see lay empty space. But in that space the play of light created mirages which, this time, were of a disturbing kind, fortresses and minarets, angular geometric hulks. I could see also a black mass that pretended to be vegetation, overhung by the last of those clouds that dissolve during the day only to return at night. This mass of vegetation was the shadow of a cumulus.
It was no good going on. The experiment was a failure. We would have to go back to our plane, to that red and white beacon which, perhaps, would be picked out by a flyer. I was not staking great hopes on a rescue party, but it did seem to me our last chance of salvation. In any case, we had to get back to our few drops of liquid, for our throats were parched. We were imprisoned in this iron circle, captives of the curt dictatorship of thirst.”
- from Wind, Sand and Stars by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

willigula:

Wreck of the Curtiss P-40 Kittyhawk flown by RAF Flight Sergeant Dennis Copping, who was last seen leaving his airbase in North Egypt in June, 1942

“At our feet lay our valley of sand, opening into a desert of sand whose dazzling brightness seared our eyes. As far as the eye could see lay empty space. But in that space the play of light created mirages which, this time, were of a disturbing kind, fortresses and minarets, angular geometric hulks. I could see also a black mass that pretended to be vegetation, overhung by the last of those clouds that dissolve during the day only to return at night. This mass of vegetation was the shadow of a cumulus.


It was no good going on. The experiment was a failure. We would have to go back to our plane, to that red and white beacon which, perhaps, would be picked out by a flyer. I was not staking great hopes on a rescue party, but it did seem to me our last chance of salvation. In any case, we had to get back to our few drops of liquid, for our throats were parched. We were imprisoned in this iron circle, captives of the curt dictatorship of thirst.”

- from Wind, Sand and Stars by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Me gustan los hombres desesperados, hombres con los dientes rotos y los destinos rotos. También me gustan las mujeres viles, las perras borrachas, con las medias caídas y arrugadas y las caras pringosas de maquillaje barato. Me gustan más los pervertidos que los santos. Me encuentro bien entre marginados porque soy un marginado. No me gustan las leyes, ni morales, religiones o reglas. No me gusta ser modelado por la sociedad”.
Charles Bukowski (via soyunsatiro)
César Vallejo. Espergesia.

nalgasylibros:

Yo nací un día
que Dios estuvo enfermo.

Todos saben que vivo,
que soy malo; y no saben
del diciembre de ese enero.
Pues yo nací un día
que Dios estuvo enfermo.

Read More

bitterness-of-existence:

أبناء وطنه يسمونه ” العم” وليس جلالة ولا سيادة ولا الرئيس”” هو شي منه.. الرجل الذي هزم الفرنسيين فحرر وطنه منهم ثم هزم الامريكان فوحّد وطنه ولم يمنح نفسه اي وسام…
كم انت عظيم يا هوشي منه..

bitterness-of-existence:

أبناء وطنه يسمونه ” العم” وليس جلالة ولا سيادة ولا الرئيس”” هو شي منه.. الرجل الذي هزم الفرنسيين فحرر وطنه منهم ثم هزم الامريكان فوحّد وطنه ولم يمنح نفسه اي وسام…

كم انت عظيم يا هوشي منه..

thediaryofadisappointingman:

Ansel Adams, 1936.

thediaryofadisappointingman:

Ansel Adams, 1936.


“After the first glass, you see things as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not. Finally, you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world.”
 - Oscar Wilde

“After the first glass, you see things as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not. Finally, you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world.”

- Oscar Wilde

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman is seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. True beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It’s the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows & the beauty of a woman only grows with passing years.
Audrey Hepburn (via fromanotherperspective)
Friedrich Nietzsche. Diez mandamientos para escribir con estilo.

nalgasylibros:

  1. Lo que importa más es la vida: el estilo debe vivir.
  2. El estilo debe ser apropiado a tu persona, en función de una persona determinada a la que quieres comunicar tu pensamiento.

Read More

seabois:

يضيع جمال الحياة عندما تنظر بعينيك فقط

and the beauty of life is lost when you only look with your eyes.