Latest Posts by enfantdeluneperdu - Page 6

Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.

Charlotte Bronte  (via mysharona1987)

“Mourning is not forgetting… It is an undoing. Every minute tie has to be untied and something permanent and valuable recovered and assimilated from the dust.”

(via sam-is-a-twinkie)

I miss you the most right now

Good or not, grief is definitely another country. It makes no sense at all. You can smile through the funeral, crack a joke as you bury your loved one, and then, weeks later, catch sight of an Oreo cookie and start howling in public because you’ll never eat an Oreo with your father again. The Oreo cookie is more painful than the dead body. Marilyn French writes about this disconnect in The Women’s Room: “Rituals mark feelings, but feelings and events do not coincide. Feelings are large and spread over a lifetime.”

In Defense of Good Grief, Livemint  (via lastminutegenius)

"What you are seeking, is also seeking you"

the moon is hiding in
her hair.
The
lily
of heaven
full of all dreams,
draws down. cover her briefness in singing
close her with the intricate faint birds by daisies and twilights
Deepen her, Recite
upon her
flesh
the rain’s pearls singly-whispering.

e.e. cummings, “the moon is hiding in” (via petrichour)

Confidence is not ‘they will like me’ Confidence is ‘I’ll be fine if they don’t’

things everyone should know (via this-is-realitea)

YESSS

(via therestlessintrovert)

[e v e r y b o d y]

Bliss

Too true

Perfection.

"How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned.”

I am.

**Visit my blog babes, i follow back

The hardest part on We Heart It.

All Monsters Are Human

Perfect

now please

🙏

Clear your mind here

The worst type of crying wasn’t the kind everyone could see—the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived.

Katie McGarry, Pushing the Limits (via quotethat)

#ambersarmy