Religion comes from the period of human prehistory where nobody—not even the mighty Democritus who concluded that all matter was made from atoms—had the smallest idea what was going on. It comes from the bawling and fearful infancy of our species, and is a babyish attempt to meet our inescapable demand for knowledge (as well as for comfort, reassurance, and other infantile needs). Today the least educated of my children knows much more about the natural order than any of the founders of religion.
Christopher Hitchens, God Is Not Great (via whyallcaps)

(via whyallcaps)


Go on a drive with me.
somewhere far away. (via yoursixwordstory)

"I love Amy," says Nicole.

"Yeah," says Winehouse, adopting a cute voice, "she loves me."

"Amy is a very honest type of person," says Nicole. “She blows my mind. She’s very special.” From her lap, Winehouse mutters, "Special needs."

"She’ll hate me for saying this, but her heart is made of gold," says Nicole.

"Made of wood," mumbles Winehouse.

"She’s very democratic," says Nicole. "Diplomatic," corrects the lap voice.

"I want to fall in love like Amy," says Nicole. "I think I’ve been in love before."

Winehouse lifts her head: "No, no, if you had, you’d be dead because you weren’t together."

Amy Winehouse, from an interview (via violentwavesofemotion)

What was, is;
What might have been, might be.
What’s kept. What’s lost. A snap decision.

Why does even the best person hold back something from another? Why not say directly what we feel if we know that what we entrust won’t be scattered to the winds? As it is, everyone looks much tougher than he really is, as if he felt it’d be an insult to his feeling if he expressed them too readily.
Fyodor Dostoevsky, from White Nights (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via thecuckooclock)






Always the same taste of ashes in my mouth when I think of her.
Paul Claudel on Camille Claudel (via whyallcaps)

(via whyallcaps)