“I am still so naive. I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?”
— Sylvia Plath

What is a measure for success?
Being read. Being read by people who get it. For me, success is that I have a book out and maybe I get an email from a friend of a friend who I don’t really know that speaks to what the book is about. That people get it: That can keep me depression-free for a month. That it means something to someone else, particularly in a positive way. A woman said to me, “Your book made me feel less alone.” That is success. By

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Source: http://www.vogue.com/culture/article/chimamanda-ngozi-adicihie-feminism-beyonce-book/#1

Reblogged from c-ovet  30 notes

I remember I would not stand still; I would not stop being perplexed by everything that spontaneously attracted me or caught my attention. I would never cease to look around me and observe myself in relation to nature: either crystal clear skies and sun-melting afternoons, or foggy winter days and weirdly tinted nights. I would never cease to dream and stand by the window, ready to let the diversity of life pass freely through my skin; courageous enough to believe I stood a chance in devouring each shade of sensation. Or perhaps, immensely foolish to plainly — believe at all. By Virginia Woolf (via c-ovet)

sadvillains:

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)

:(