The best thing about a secret is secretly telling someone your secret thereby secretly adding another secret to their collection of secrets secretly.
— SpongeBob SquarePants (via simplyrare) (via welcometothekrustykrab)
The best thing about a secret is secretly telling someone your secret thereby secretly adding another secret to their collection of secrets secretly.
— SpongeBob SquarePants (via simplyrare) (via welcometothekrustykrab)
Akira Kosemura / Plus
Listen carefully for: Glósóli.
There are some good things to be said about walking. Not many, but some. Walking takes longer, for example, than any other known form of locomotion except crawling. Thus it stretches time and prolongs life. Life is already too short to waste on speed. I have a friend who’s always in a hurry; he never gets anywhere. Walking makes the world much bigger and thus more interesting. You have time to observe the details. The utopian technologists foresee a future for us in which distance is annihilated and anyone can transport himself anywhere, instantly. Big deal, Buckminster. To be everywhere at once is to be nowhere forever, if you ask me.
— Edward Abbey (Journey Home)
All Dressed in White by Dawn Landes
(via tumblrisforlulz)
(via fuckyeahpeanuts)
Fiona (right one): Hmmph.. Y’know George I’ve never fancy those 8 in 1 Ecotrition Golden Honey Bar.
“Yeah me neither.” said George while looking out the window, secretly hoping to see a glimpse of Pippy (neighbor’s bunny), his crush.
Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, ‘Where have I gone wrong’.
Then a voice says to me, ‘This is going to take more than one night.’
— Charles M. Schulz
(Photo by Johanna Uhrman)
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little,
drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too
little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our
possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and
hate too often.
— Bob Moorehead
You Woke Me Up! by Andrew Bird
I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.
— Jack Kerouac