Untitled

May 17 2012
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suicideblonde:

Diane Kruger in Prada at the 2012 Met Costume Gala, May 7th
MY QUEEN!  

suicideblonde:

Diane Kruger in Prada at the 2012 Met Costume Gala, May 7th

MY QUEEN!  

(via theglitterguide)

836 notes

May 13 2012
spinningbirdkick:

Signe Vilstrup / Vanity Fair Italia April 2012.

spinningbirdkick:

Signe Vilstrup / Vanity Fair Italia April 2012.

(via left-my-heart-in-paris)

139 notes

Apr 08 2012
Apr 07 2012
Simply to be desired is not a high enough aspiration. Outfits that say little more than ‘look at my body’ should be outlawed from one’s wardrobe. English style has always been about expressing one’s intelligence, charm and views through one’s choice of image. Expressing who you are and what you want to be. If what you’re saying is just ‘be my boyfriend’ then you’re not saying much. Looking sexy should always come second to looking interesting - to look interesting is to look beautiful.
— Luella’s Guide to English Style (via unejeunedemoiselle)

(Source: wildthicket, via unejeunedemoiselle)

853 notes

Mar 15 2012
picsandquotes:

Follow www.foodaddict.me now for yummy photos!

picsandquotes:

Follow www.foodaddict.me now for yummy photos!

(Source: weheartit.com)

1,522 notes

Mar 12 2012
I recommend readers to be adventurous and to try things they’ve never heard of or considered reading before. Get out of the comfort zone and discover something new and exciting. If you’d never be caught dead in the mystery section go and read some George Pelecanos, Dennis Lehane, Michael Connelly or many others. If you only read thrillers get deep into the literary fiction aisle and let yourself be seduced. If you only read non-fiction pick up a Ian McDonald novel or a Joyce Carol Oates novel. If you only read comic books, get acquainted with the great Charles Dickens or a certain Monsieur Dumas. Pick up something at random and read a page. Feel the texture of the language, the architecture of the imagery, the perfume of the style… There’s so much beauty, intelligence and excitement to be had between the pages of the books waiting for you at your local bookstore the only thing you need to bring is an open mind and a sense of adventure. Disregard all prejudices, all pre-conceived notions and all the rubbish some people try to make you think. Think for yourself. Regarding books or anything in life. Think for yourself.
— Carlos Ruiz Zafón (via anadergretly)

(Source: bookmania, via anadergretly)

816 notes

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There are two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull back from life. When we are in love, we open to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement, and acceptance. We need to learn to love ourselves first, in all our glory and our imperfections. If we cannot love ourselves, we cannot fully open to our ability to love others or our potential to create. Evolution and all hopes for a better world rest in the fearlessness and open-hearted vision of people who embrace life.
— John Lennon (via crimsun)

(via anadergretly)

1,860 notes

Mar 04 2012
[I return to this moment again and again because it always makes me weep.] And when I weep, I feel - despite everything I’ve done that might make it seem otherwise - human, exactly like everyone else.
— Scott Smith, A Simple Plan (via the-final-sentence)

167 notes

Feb 14 2012
He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others—the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the mid afternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad.

218 notes

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