"Working hard for something we don’t care about is called stress; working hard for something we love is called passion.”
— Simon Sinek
"The last time, my last words were, I run away from Life. What did I mean? I think I can explain. For me, life is: noise, madness, amusement or pleasure, bitterness. Since I run away from Life, I run away from all that, I long for silence. When there is no sound to be heard, when night covers the great city with her dark cloak, hiding the shining mask, then I feel as though I hear a mysterious voice speaking to me. I suppose the voice comes from me, since it thinks as I do. I stay a long time, half asleep. I don’t feel anything, I dream. I forget the earth, I forget everything, and I soar into an infinite without misery and without end. It seems to me I am looking for something, I don’t know what. Is it forgetfulness? Silence? I don’t know, but that same voice speaks to me, although I think I am alone. I can’t understand what it says, but I say to myself that in this world, one can never be alone and forget.”
Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry

theconcealedweapon:

Youth: I think I’m [insert neurotype, sexual orientation, or gender expression].

Society: No you’re not. You’re too young to know that. You’re just going through a phase.

Adult: I think I’m [insert neurotype, sexual orientation, or gender expression].

Society: No you’re not. If you were, you would have known a long time ago.

"The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it.”
— W.M. Lewis (via thosefamousquotes)
"I was supposed to be having the time of my life.”
— Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
©