I feel full of the mystery of life at the moment.
(Odd how things sometimes seem tinkling and empty and then full, full.)
An overwhelming sensation that almost makes me speechless.

Iris Murdoch, from a letter to Wallace Robson written c. December 1951 (via violentwavesofemotion)

It doesn’t make sense to call ourselves ugly, because we don’t really see ourselves. We don’t watch ourselves sleeping in bed, curled up and silent with chests rising and falling with our own rhythm. We don’t see ourselves reading a book, eyes fluttering and glowing. You don’t see yourself looking at someone with love and care inside your heart. There’s no mirror in your way when you’re laughing and smiling and happiness is leaking out of you. You would know exactly how bright and beautiful you are if you saw yourself in the moments where you are truly yourself.

(via bermira)

!!

(via cocconutoil)

yo this shit just made me cry