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Virtually every writer I know would rather be a musician.
(via t3xn0crat)
(Source: t3xradio, via 16-bit-troubles)
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Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.
Kurt Vonnegut, “Slaughterhouse-Five” (via thechocolatebrigade) (via sweetlyhaggard)
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Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies — “God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.
-Kurt Vonnegut, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater.
Sometimes people forget this (myself included) so I thought a reminder would be nice.
(via bananafishsticks)
(via mentalpicture)
(via greatloyalties)
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‘Howard —’ he said to me, ‘future civilizations — better civilizations than this one — are going to judge all men by the extent to which they’ve been artists. You and I, if some future archaeologist finds our works miraculously preserved in some city dump, will be judged by the quality of our creations. Nothing else about us will matter.’
Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut (via rowanboat)
