So it goes.

I like the alphabet. I like history. I like to travel.

Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being “in love”, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

—Louis de Bernières, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin (via observando)

It is better to preserve than to repair, better to repair than to restore, and better to restore than to reconstruct.

—National Park Service policy (via preservationlovin)

The city, however, does not tell its past, but contains it like the lines of a hand, written in the corners of the streets, the gratings of the windows, the banisters of the steps, the antennae of the lightening rods, the poles of the flags, every segment marked in turn with scratches, indentations, scrolls.

—Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities (Harcourt, 1972, p. 11)

(Source: urbangeographies)

Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.

—Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness (via observando)

Manchester Orchestra

—Don't Speak (No Doubt Cover)


Manchester Orchestra - Don’t Speak (No Doubt cover)

(Source: jewfro, via flyflyfly)