henrrywinter:


entelecheia — in the philosophy of Aristotle, the condition of a thing whose essence is fully realized [x]

#OKAY BUT IF THIS IS AN ANGEL—IF THEIR HALOS ARE THE UNFLAWED AND FULLY REALIZED CIRCLE#THAT MEANS THAT IN FALLING—IN BECOMING DEMONIC#THE CIRCLE CRACKS#THE DEMON’S HORNS ARE THE VESTIGIAL HALO#A CONSTANT SYMBOL AND REMINDER OF THEIR FLAWED-NESS; THEIR INCOMPLETENESS#I’M!!!!! (notbecauseofvictories)

henrrywinter:

entelecheia — in the philosophy of Aristotle, the condition of a thing whose essence is fully realized [x]

 (notbecauseofvictories)

sherlockscompanionjohn:

likeadisneyprincess:

a VERY important chart, this is.

thanks yoda

Brothers On A Hotel Bed
Death Cab For Cutie

edwardspoonhands:

effyeahnerdfighters:

apenguinenthusiast:

It’s just weird listening to it… go ahead, do it.

Old school, yo.

True Story…I literally searched for “brothers” on limewire and downloaded like fifty songs…then picked this one.

LIMEWIRE!

I am going to start swearing by authors

superwhatlocked:

becca-morley:

thepreciousthing:

thecoffeetragedy:

flippyspoon:

dragonsigma:

"Holy mother of Mary Shelley!"

"What the Tolkien?"

"By Victor Hugo’s spare underpants!"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph Conrad!"

"Pardon my Molière, but I don’t give a Faulkner."

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Thank you supernatural fandom

racydoctorsteel:

notsoinnocentalchemist:

trytoswimtostayfloat:

stay-ocean-minded:

honorized:

dreamsof-paradise:

Every single person needs to reblog this. No, it will not ruin your blog, it will make it a million times better. 

So much respect. And sadness. He’s trying so hard to stay strong.

i’m tearing :/

wow

No, no, this is horrible. You see, the flag will go to the husband or wife of the deceased soldier as next of kin. This flag is going to the son.
Both of his parents are gone.

I had to reread that last comment on this a few times and when I realized what that meant and my heart just fell through the fucking floor

racydoctorsteel:

notsoinnocentalchemist:

trytoswimtostayfloat:

stay-ocean-minded:

honorized:

dreamsof-paradise:

Every single person needs to reblog this. No, it will not ruin your blog, it will make it a million times better. 

So much respect. And sadness. He’s trying so hard to stay strong.

i’m tearing :/

wow

No, no, this is horrible. You see, the flag will go to the husband or wife of the deceased soldier as next of kin. This flag is going to the son.

Both of his parents are gone.

I had to reread that last comment on this a few times and when I realized what that meant and my heart just fell through the fucking floor

Sansa + internal book monologues

He made certain not to look at Sansa, lest the bitterness show in his eyes. You might have knelt, damn you. Would it have been so bloody hard to bend those stiff Stark knees of yours and let me keep a little dignity?

ladyjanerochford:

Everytime I see someone on the Giver tag complaining about the ending I just want to jump through my screen and shove all the sequels at them. 

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All my family talked about at Easter breakfast today was cookiepuss.

thefarfire:

david-tennants-little-fangirl:

neverthehurricane:

sherlockchins:

sunshien:

my mom asked why i don’t read as many books as i used to and i just said it was because i read a lot of unpublished stories from independent writers online and she thinks that’s very good of me to give undiscovered authors a chance

hahaha

i just read gay porn

#unpublished stories from independent writers online

#so that’s what we’re calling it now

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Never stop reblogging this

frostingpeetaswounds:

FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT FANFICTION AUTHORS WRITE IN THEIR OWN SPARE TIME AND YOU GET THEIR WRITING FOR FREE, THEY ARE DOING THIS FOR FREE ON THEIR OWN TIME 

don’t be an asshole

  • The One Time Jem Tried to Write Lyrics
  • Will: Jem, this feels... real. I'd swear just from reading these words that were actually in love with someone.
  • Jem: You would?
  • Will: It's a little sappy mayhaps, but...
  • Tessa: *walks in*
  • Jem: *tears up lyrics*
  • Will: James! That stuff was good!
  • Tessa: What's happened?
  • Jem: I'm not good with words.
  • Will: Liar! You'd be fine if you didn't rip up your own work!
  • Tessa: I thought you didn't like to write lyrics.
  • Jem: I don't. But some... things... make me want to try. Nevermind.
  • Will: *stares at ripped pages*... *pouts*
  • The One Time Will Tried to Write Music
  • Will: What do you think, James? Brilliant, right?
  • Jem: Well, it's... good. But...
  • Will: But what?
  • Jem: Isn't that essentially "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" with one extra chord thrown in?
  • Will: ...
  • Jem: ...
  • Will: ... and your point is?

miss-jaxon-flaxon-waxon:

onwardwall:

thegingerbalrog:

my-fandom-life:

dismantlerepaired:

whereismystrawberrytart:

hikingnerd:

timelordpillbug:

follovved:

amerlcanapparel:

when she says she doesn’t send nudes

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when guys objectify women and expect them to send nudesimage

when someone asks you about your nuclear plans for russia

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When Russia sends you nudes

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American Pie
Don McLean

weirdokahil:

Don McLean - “American Pie”

A long, long time ago
I can still remember how
That music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while
But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step
I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died(*)

So, bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die

Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so
Now do you believe in rock and roll
Can music save your mortal soul
And can you teach me how to dance real slow

Well, I know that you’re in love with him
'Cause I saw you dancin' in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues
I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died
I started singin’

Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die

Now, for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rolling stone
But, that’s not how it used to be
When the jester sang for the king and queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
And a voice that came from you and me
Oh, and while the king was looking down
The jester stole his thorny crown
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned
And while Lennon read a book on Marx
The quartet practiced in the park
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died
We were singin’

Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die

Helter skelter in a summer swelter
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter
Eight miles high and falling fast
Landed flat on the grass
The players tried for a forward pass
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast
Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While sergeants played a marching tune
We all got up to dance
Oh, but we never got the chance
'Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died
We started singin’

Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die

Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again
So come on Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick
'Cause fire is the devil's only friend
And as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in Hell
Could break that Satan’s spell
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died
He was singin’

Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play
And in the streets the children screamed
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken
And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died
And they were singin’

Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die

They were singin’
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
[(*)”The day the music died” was February 3, 1959 when a plane crash killed Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper and Ritchie Valens]
Shelter from the Storm
Bob Dylan
Theme © morgenstjern