Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you.
― Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story (via wethinkwedream)
Let us go then, exploring, this summer morning, when all are adoring the plum blossom and the bee. And humming and hawing, let us ask of the starling (who is a more sociable bird than the lark) what he may think on the brink of the dust bin, whence he picks among the sticks combings of scullion’s hair. What’s life, we ask, leaning on the farmyard gate; Life, Life, Life! cries the bird, as if he had heard…
― Virginia Woolf, Orlando. (via fuckyeahvirginiawoolf)