Be — don’t try to become
Osho (via mrs-enjolras
Sometimes you can’t let go of the past without facing it again.
Gail Tsukiyama, The Samurai’s Garden
There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years…And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create… Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected, to make you feel whole, to make you feel loved.
Charlie Kaufman, Synecdoche
, New York: The Shooting Script (via rdpxth
When someone is crying, of course, the noble thing to do is to comfort them. But if someone is trying to hide their tears, it may also be noble to pretend you do not notice them.
Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid
Someone once told me that human beings have three dimensions: how you see yourself, how others see you, and how you want others to see you. The closer the distance between the three dimensions, the more at peace you are and the more stable you become.
Marwa Rakha (The Poison Tree)
Don’t let anyone, even your parents, break you. Find good people who care about you and surround yourself with just them. If you can’t find them at first, find good music and fall into it and let it hold you until they come.
Davey Havok (via perfect
You need to learn how to select your thoughts just the same way you select your clothes every day. This is a power you can cultivate. If you want to control things in your life so bad, work on the mind. That’s the only thing you should be trying to control.
Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that’s what makes you strong
I think people would be happier if they admitted things more often. In a sense we are all prisoners of some memory, or fear, or disappointment—we are all defined by something we can’t change.
Simon Van Booy
, The Illusion of Separateness