http://www.erikmarinovich.com/work/bbdo-mural

(Source: totalpackaging)

It’s hard to be brave. Because bravery requires you to be honest with yourself. It requires you to look inside your heart and find a genuine reason to fight. It cannot be money. It has to be something bigger. Something you truly believe in. When you find it, everything changes. A flaw can turn into an asset. Fear becomes a motive and comfort becomes the enemy. [Bravery, from bonfire to fireworks](http://blog.fandco.ca/en/post/bravery-from-bonfire-to-fireworks/228/), on blog.fandco.ca. Camera: Maxime Riverin, Daravong Thongsavath, Alexis Bourassa, Jean-François Desrosiers Editing: Maxime Riverin, Alexis Bourassa

(Source: creativemornings.com)

(Source: sarnain, via foxycleverpatra)

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

by Dylan Thomas
cabbagerose:

open bookshelves
via: oliveryaphe

cabbagerose:

open bookshelves

via: oliveryaphe

aplacetolovedogs:

Beauty!

!

Utne Reader: Sorrow, Gladness, and the Stream of Living Things

utnereader:

by Kathleen Dean Moore

I have felt the comfort and reassurance of wet, wild places—the steady surge and flow of the sea on sand, water slipping over stones. There is meaning in the natural rhythms of dying and living, winter and spring, bones and leaves. Even in times of bewilderment or despair,…

Beautiful thoughts.

mcmillianfurlow:

By Ludlow Kingsley.

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