You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen.
Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast (via misswallflower)

B.O.B | OutKast

I wonder how the middle aged dads that had been making Iraq jokes about the drones flying over us felt when OutKast opened with this song last night.

"When Shelley’s corpse washed ashore, a friend identified it by a copy of Keats’s 1820 volume in the coat pocket, which he knew Shelley had taken with him. Then, after cremation in which Shelley’s heart, hardened by calcium, did not burn, this same friend snatched it from the embers and presented it to Mary Shelley, who kept it thereafter in her desk, wrapped in a copy of ‘Adonais."

raecupcake:

Here’s your morbid literary fact of the day.

When I won the Nobel Peace Prize, Willie Nelson came over to Oslo to perform “Georgia On My Mind.” Willie always invites me up on state to sing “Amazing Grace.” I have a very bad voice, and he generally turns the microphone away from me. But I’m up there.
Jimmy Carter, Southern Living December 2012