My blood is alive with many voices
telling me I am made of longing
What mystery breaks over me now?
In its shadow I come into life
I am not on this earth willingly.

André Breton (via xiaoyulauer)
My heartbeat has reached the epitome of rottenness; It is no longer part of my heart. Time for the shadows to come and grab me by the brain. Dearest, I am asking you again: Just how far is the sky?

Friedrich Nietzsche, Selected Letters (via petrichour)

(Source: stxxz.us, via theautologicalmetaphor)

We know now that a man can read Goethe or Rilke in the evening, that he can play Bach and Schubert, and go to his day’s work at Auschwitz in the morning.

George Steiner (via eukafkasialtii)
Sometimes, carrying on, just carrying on, is the superhuman achievement.

Albert Camus, The Fall  (via larmoyante)

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)

He who jumps into the void owes no explanation to those who stand and watch.

Jean-Luc Godard  (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via violentwavesofemotion)