free thinker
silent rebel
amateur writer ( who hopes to finish most of her works )
currently spends her time being active with her org, batch and team while trying to finish a story or two
trying to be a model student, yet still can't help herself from being cheeky
loves granola, a good book, and an overlooking view of a city under a starry, starry night
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
One thing is needful.- To ‘give style’ to one’s character- a great and rare art! It is practiced by those who survey all the strengths and weaknesses of their nature and then fit them into an artistic plan until every one of them appears as art and reason and even weaknesses delight the eye…In the end, when the work is finished, it becomes evident how the constraint of a single taste governed and formed everything large and small.
Friederich Nietzsche (via totrulyexist)
Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last. Imagine that you are doing this but that it is essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature…in order to found that edifice on its unavenged tears. Would you consent to be the architect on those conditions? Tell me. Tell the truth.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky,The Brothers Karamazov (via philphys)
Let yourself become living poetry.
Rumi, from “Soul Houses”, in Bridge to the Soul, translated by C. Barks (via the-final-sentence)
(Source: growing-orbits)
rules of a gentleman
Where men are the most sure and arrogant, they are commonly the most mistaken, and have there given reins to passion, without that proper deliberation and suspense, which can alone secure them from the grossest absurdities.
David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals (via philphys)
“The Legend of Briar Rose” by Edward Burne-Jones, c. 1885-1890
I. The Briar Wood
The fateful slumber floats and flows
About the tangle of the rose.
But lo the fated hand and heart
To rend the slumberous curse apart.II. The Council Chamber
The threat of war the hope of peace
The Kingdoms peril and increase
Sleep on and bide the latter day
When fate shall take her chain away.III. The Garden Court
The maiden plaisance of the land
Knoweth no stir of voice or hand
No cup the sleeping waters fill
The restless shuttle lieth still.IV. The Rose Bower
Here lies the hoarded love the key
To All the treasure that shall be
Come fated heart the gift to take
And smite the sleeping world awake.
