“ It’s a funny thing about the modern world. You hear girls in the toilets of clubs saying, ‘Yeah, he fucked off and left me. He didn’t love me. He just couldn’t deal with love. He was too fucked up to know how to love me.’ Now, how did that happen? What was it about this unlovable century that convinced us we were, despite everything, eminently lovable as a people, as a species? What made us think that anyone who fails to love us is damaged, lacking, malfunctioning in some way? And particularly if they replace us with a god, or a weeping Madonna, or the face of Christ in a ciabatta roll—then we call them crazy. Deluded. Regressive. We are so convinced of the goodness of ourselves, and the goodness of our love, we cannot bear to believe that there might be something more worthy of love than us, more worthy of worship. Greeting cards routinely tell us everybody deserves love. No. Everybody deserves clean water. Not everybody deserves love all the time.
— Zadie Smith (via doskapozora) (via tobia)
ak47:necolab: (via alohashlee)
“ There are no secrets in life, just hidden truths that lie beneath the surface.
— Dexter (via underthesheets)
“ There are a thousand, thousand reasons to live this life, every one of them sufficient.
—
Marilynne Robinson, Gilead.
(via louobedlam)
“ Nevertheless, the Gates incident has illuminated some basic, strange assumptions about our society. Cops think they have a constitutional right to be treated deferentially. And black people think cops are nice to white people. Yeah, well, take it from a white guy: we don’t like cops either.
— Everyone Hates the Cops (via sparo)
“ Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark. In the hopeless swamps of the not quite, the not yet, and the not at all, do not let the hero in your soul perish and leave only frustration for the life you deserved, but never have been able to reach. The world you desire can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours.
“ But who can say what’s best? That’s why you need to grab whatever chance you have of happiness where you find it, and not worry about other people too much.
— Haruki Murakami (via littlemiss) (via papertissue)
