Grown-ups like numbers. When you tell them about a new friend, they never ask questions about what really matters. They never ask: ‘What does his voice sound like?’ ‘What games does he like best?’ ‘Does he collect butterflies?’ They ask: ‘How old is he?’ ‘How many brothers does he have?’ ‘How much does he weigh?’ ‘How much money does he have?’ Only then do they think they know him. If you tell grown-ups, ‘I saw a beautiful red brick house, with geraniums at the windows and doves at the roof…,’ they won’t be able to imagine such a house. You have to tell them, ‘I saw a house worth a thousand francs.’ Then they exclaim, ‘What a pretty house!’
Here’s to the crazy ones — the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently — they’re not fond of rules. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things. They push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.
"If you run from it, you die.
If you fight it, you die.
If you ignore it, you die.
You die, you die, you die.”
have you ever been stuck between wanting to know how the story ends and not wanting to reach the end? ‘cause you’re aware how difficult it is to move on from such an amazing story but your desire in knowing what will happen next is also irresistible. it’s just hard to choose but you are going to finish it anyway..
She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.
how does it feel like, falling down into the unknown?
can i please have one of those?
How can such a small measure of time contain such enormity?