Explore these ideas and more!

We would do ourselves a tremendous favor by letting go of the people who poison our spirit.   ~ Steve Maraboli ~

We would do ourselves a tremendous favor by letting go of the people who poison our spirit. ~ Steve Maraboli ~

"Mr.Rabbit?" I called out my voice cracking. He looked at me and looked at the seat across from him. I walked down the isle, the bus door closing, causing me to jump. Nervously I sat down. "I want to play a game." this had seemed to catch his attention, his mask was void of any emotion.

"Mr.Rabbit?" I called out my voice cracking. He looked at me and looked at the seat across from him. I walked down the isle, the bus door closing, causing me to jump. Nervously I sat down. "I want to play a game." this had seemed to catch his attention, his mask was void of any emotion.

Traveling through history of Photography...Diana e la Tuda, by Luigi Pirandello, 1926.

Traveling through history of Photography...Diana e la Tuda, by Luigi Pirandello, 1926.

“Hallo, Rabbit,” he said, “is that you?” "Let’s pretend it isn’t,” said Rabbit, “and see what happens.” ― A.A. Milne

“Hallo, Rabbit,” he said, “is that you?” "Let’s pretend it isn’t,” said Rabbit, “and see what happens.” ― A.A. Milne

I never get tired of people dressed as animals, or animals dressed as people. (from the "Creepy Little World" blog)

I never get tired of people dressed as animals, or animals dressed as people. (from the "Creepy Little World" blog)

http://24.media.tumblr.com/01dea1a3d0b16f3e471eac12a8ee80cc/tumblr_mfgzo9up781s16q47o1_500.jpg

http://24.media.tumblr.com/01dea1a3d0b16f3e471eac12a8ee80cc/tumblr_mfgzo9up781s16q47o1_500.jpg

"The individual, man as a man, man as a brain, if you like, interests me more than what he makes, because I've noticed that most artists only repeat themselves."   - Marcel Duchamp

"The individual, man as a man, man as a brain, if you like, interests me more than what he makes, because I've noticed that most artists only repeat themselves." - Marcel Duchamp

On a journey, ill; my dream goes wandering over withered fields.... The death poem of Basho

On a journey, ill; my dream goes wandering over withered fields.... The death poem of Basho

Pinterest • The world’s catalog of ideas
Search