aseaofquotes:

Tara Brach, Radical Acceptance

aseaofquotes:

Tara Brach, Radical Acceptance

aseaofquotes:

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, “White Nights”

aseaofquotes:

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, “White Nights”

This billboard weirds me out. It’s not trying to sell me something and it’s not providing a solution. #funfacts

This billboard weirds me out. It’s not trying to sell me something and it’s not providing a solution. #funfacts

"My feelings are not God. God is God. My feelings do not define truth. God’s word defines truth. My feelings are echoes and responses to what my mind perceives. And sometimes - many times - my feelings are out of sync with the truth. When that happens - and it happens every day in some measure - I try not to bend the truth to justify my imperfect feelings, but rather, I plead with God: Purify my perceptions of your truth and transform my feelings so that they are in sync with the truth."
— John Piper  (via littlethingsaboutgod)

I forgot to post this on Sunday. Gives me the chills.

Oh yeah… Just so ya’ll know…

I have a shameless love for all that is Dolly Parton.

blwf:

By the time we got to this last push, everyone was leaving. Due to incoming rain and the possibility of lightning, the park ranger had urged us to turn around. Caley had no interest in turning around, nor did I. As we reached the top of Half Dome, everyone had fled and we sat alone on top of one of the most famous rocks in the world.

"The word “art” is something the West has never understood. Art is supposed to be a part of a community. Like, scholars are supposed to be a part of a community… Art is to decorate people’s houses, their skin, their clothes, to make them expand their minds, and it’s supposed to be right in the community, where they can have it when they want it… It’s supposed to be as essential as a grocery store… that’s the only way art can function naturally."
Amiri Baraka  (via hislivingpoetry)
Are you seeing this tiny shirt right now? (at MSRADS)

Are you seeing this tiny shirt right now? (at MSRADS)

"I could hear my heart beating. I could hear every one’s heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making. Not one of us moved. Not even when the room went dark."
— "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love" by Raymond Carver (via trustthisdialect)