where there is love there is life - ghandi
reblog this post, with 5706 notes.

bonus:

reasons why i stop replying: 

  1. i’m busy
  2. you’re boring
  3. i’m mad
  4. you replied with one word
  5. you asked for a pic

(via asvprock)

reblog this post, with 89434 notes.
reblog this post, with 383006 notes.
reblog this post, with 27662 notes.
Looking at him was like looking at the sun for too long. It hurt and left imprints of his face on your eyelids when you closed them, but at the same time it was much harder to look away because you were afraid that if you did, he’d be gone and all you’d ever see beyond that point was a darkness you’d never be able to shake off.
Shelby Asquith, Boys Who Shine Brighter Than The Sun Are Dangerous (via exahele)

(via d-ecember19th)

reblog this post, with 573620 notes.
reblog this post, with 15734 notes.

have you ever been so wildly attracted to someone you can actually feel it driving you insane

(Source: sunndogg, via infamousgod)

reblog this post, with 27592 notes.
reblog this post, with 322265 notes.
Anonymous: What's the most illegal thing you ever did?

portionsforfoxes:

sephyerite:

almanzapedia:

At Stanford there was this Professor who was a total bitch and she taught British Literature, which was cool. Except she taught only her opinions of the books and it didn’t help me as a writer. I went to school to learn new things to improve my craft, not have someone else’s opinions carved onto my forehead.

So anyway, for our final project, she asked us to write a ten page paper on why the color symbolism in Othello was so significant. I did some research and it turned out that she did her entire graduate thesis on this very subject. I was mad. This wasn’t teaching, this was boosting her ego. SO I wrote a ten page essay on why color symbolism in Othello wasn’t significant, satirizing it to the point of no return, saying that her opinion was an opinion and shouldn’t be taken seriously.

SHe failed me, needless to say. So in retaliation, I responded by baking a batch of brownies laced with weed and laxatives and delivered them myself to the professor hours before her big graduation speech. I told her that it was a peace offering, my way of apologizing and asking if I could do anything to fix my grade.

She refused to fix my grade.

In the end, she shit herself on stage.

I didn’t regret it.

No mercy.

holy shit