“Much like fairy tales, there are two facets of horror. One is pro-institution, which is the most reprehensible type of fairy tale: Don’t wander into the woods, and always obey your parents. The other type of fairy tale is completely anarchic and anti-establishment.”
— Guillermo del Toro on how horror is inherently political as a genre, Time Magazine (x)

(via leadencirclesdissolve)

ssweet-dispositionn:

wallflowerbloom:

No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

(Dead Poets Society, 1989)

Obsessed with this freaking movie

(via anewmeforyou)

“Sometimes we get sad about things and we don’t like to tell other people that we are sad about them. We like to keep it a secret. Or sometimes, we are sad but we really don’t know why we are sad, so we say we aren’t sad but we really are.”
— Mark Haddon  (via eunicornsss)

(via anewmeforyou)

“What a fine day! Can’t choose whether to drink tea or to hang myself.”
— Anton Chekhov (via larmoyante)

(via laughteronthe23rdfloor)

“I was reading.”
“You’re always reading. The only way people can ever talk to you is to interrupt.”
“Then maybe they shouldn’t talk to me.”
— Tamora Pierce, Briar’s Book (via fictionalheroine)

(via prettybooks)

“At bottom, you see, we are not Homo sapiens as all. Our core is madness. The prime directive is murder. What Darwin was too polite to say, my friends, is that we came to rule the earth not because we were the smartest, or even the meanest, but because we have always been the craziest, most murderous motherfuckers in the jungle.”
— Stephen King (via afternoon—-tea)

(via booklover)

“A poet is not somebody who has great thoughts. That is the menial duty of the philosopher. A poet is somebody who expresses his thoughts, however commonplace they may be, exquisitely. That is the one and only difference between the poet and everybody else.”
“Much more likely you’ll hurt me. Still what does it matter? If I’ve got to suffer, it may as well be at your hands, your pretty hands.”
— Jean-Paul Sartre, ”No Exit (via symbolismo)

(via laughteronthe23rdfloor)

“But the moment you start thinking of yourself alone, absolutely alone, and related to nothing and to no one, you realize it’s silly to worry and fuss over what you are. You are simply what you are. And you feel as if you had closed a door forever on everything that’s unpleasant.”
Nick Joaquín, The Woman Who Had Two Navels (via bookmania)

(via booklover)

“And wanting nothing, regretting nothing, Peters smiled gratefully at life—running past, indifferent, ungrateful, treacherous, mocking, meaningless, alien—marvelous, marvelous, marvelous.”

Tatyana Tolstaya, from “Peters” in White Walls: Collected Stories, translated by Antonina W. Bouis

(via the-final-sentence)