We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Arabia. Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively exceeds the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here.We privileged few, who won the lottery of birth against all odds, how dare we whine at our inevitable return to that prior state from which the vast majority have never stirred? Richard Dawkins   (via girlwithdeathmask)

(Source: omyt, via girlwithdeathmask)

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middleeasternpoetry:


Wash the dust from your soul and heart with wisdom’s water; awaken, lest your two eyes be left gazing at this dusty place in remorse. - Rumi
And it occurred to me then how it took hours, sometimes days, for the surface of a river to freeze over—to hold in its skin a perfect and crystalline world—and how that world could be shattered by a small stone dropped like a single syllable. Nam Le, Love and Honour and Pity and Pride and Compassion and Sacrifice (via christiandinoor)
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iluvskinnybitches:

christy turlington
(timeless beauty captured by master lensmen peter lindbergh.  one of my all-time favorite photographs :)
sundaysuppersstudio:

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