By recalling these memories, we add to the store of dreams; we are never real historians, but always near poets, and our emotion is perhaps nothing but an expression of a poetry that was lost.
Gaston Bachelard, from The Poetics of Space. (via xshayarsha)
270 notes
·
View notes
me when I roll up to the club
15K notes
·
View notes
finally some good philosophy
2K notes
·
View notes
Jakob Böhme - Aurora (cropped) - 1682 - via Getty Open Contact
27K notes
·
View notes