Surround yourself with the dreamers and the doers, the believers and thinkers, but most of all, surround yourself with those who see the greatness within you, even when you don’t see it yourself.
Edmund Lee (via billieisaguysname)
He was loved intensely, as a child is loved. Because he hated people talking about him, he kept his friends apart. He was different with different people, and with the same people at different times, so his story is fractured, and some of the pieces contradict one another. This is partly because he was young, and was changing, as most people change between the ages of fourteen and twenty-six.
BY LARISSA MACFARQUHAR
The New Yorker on Aaron Swartz
It became such a recurring experience during this period when I was twenty — to be starving and afraid of running out of money — as I wandered from Brussels to Burma and everywhere in between for months on end, that I later came to see it as a part of my training as a cook. I came to see hunger as being as important a part of a stage as knife skills. Because so much starving on that trip led to such an enormous amount of time fantasizing about food, each craving became fanatically particular. Hunger was not general, ever, for just something, anything, to eat. My hunger grew so specific I could name every corner and fold of it. Salty, warm, brothy, starchy, fatty, sweet, clean and crunchy, crisp and water, and so on.
― Gabrielle Hamilton, Blood, Bones, and Butter: The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef
I remember being in NYC with Caroline, going to Prune, planning, experiencing, loving every second of it. The French men sharing bites of Bone Marrow, an armful away, because the tables touched—that was an added bonus to my dream of the evening, coming true. To live in your 20s like a bohemian nomad, that’s bliss. To experience adventure wherever you are, there you will find the answer to happiness.
She felt a stealing sense of fatigue as she walked; the sparkle had died out of her, and the taste of life was stale on her lips. She hardly knew what she had been seeking, or why the failure to find it had so blotted the light from her sky: she was only aware of a vague sense of failure, of an inner isolation deeper than the loneliness within her.
Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth (via caryrandolph)
I love a good email, a letter, even an overly verbose text message. I also know I’m guilty of those things (writing too much, being too wordy, etc.). It’s not my goal to be overwhelming, but to communicate the details that make life worth living. I don’t want anyone to miss out on the experience. Tonight I got an email from a good friend with a quote in it. I’ve changed some of the language to make it a little more inclusive (i.e. Him became Love)
“In short, just as those who are full of some earthly, natural love are ever turning in thought to the beloved one, their hearts overflowing with tenderness, and their lips ever ready to praise that beloved object; comforting themselves in absence by letters, carving the treasured name on every tree;—so those who love God cannot cease thinking of Love, living for Love, longing after Love, speaking of Love, and fain would they grave the Holy Name of Jesus in the hearts of every living creature they behold.
- Saint Francis De Sales
summer of the cell 2012