Treat every moment as your last. It is not preparation for something else.

( Shunryu Suzuki (via purplebuddhaproject)

(via purplebuddhaproject)

)

(Source: soya-milk, via helvetebrann)

You can trust math…. Quantities and their relation. Rates of change. The vital statistics of God or equivalent. When all else fails. When the boulder’s slid all the way back to the bottom…. When you do not know your way about. You can fall back and regroup around math. Whose truth is deductive truth. Independent of sense or emotionality. The syllogism. The identity. Modus Tollens. Transitivity. Heaven’s theme song. The nightlight on life’s dark wall, late at night. Heaven’s recipe book…. What it is is: listen: it’s true.

( David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest )

fyp-philosophy:

[src]

Now you know.

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)

buckbarrow:

do you ever have second-hand obsessions

like one of your friends is super obsessed with a thing so whenever you see something about it you’re like “YES THIS THING” but you’re not the one obsessed with it. they are. you know very little about this thing and yet it still excites you because it excites your friend

everything on tumblr.

(via helvetebrann)

You teach people how to treat you by what you allow, what you stop, and what you reinforce.

( Tony Gaskins (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)

)

I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.

( Agatha Christie (via liberatingreality) )

You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom: absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this or die like this without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.

( Anais Nin (via liberatingreality) )