Sweet Unrest

Sweet Unrest

www.sweetunrest.org
Sweet Unrest is a blog devoted to shining and delighting in the beauty of women, men, humans, nature, words, and especially Nutella. http://www.sweetunrest.org
Sweet Unrest
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With every breath inside my body, I wished I was Don Quixote, and I would charge like a madman into those windmills, and those arms would wrap themselves around me and hold me prisoner in an embrace worthy of a giant.

With every breath inside my body, I wished I was Don Quixote, and I would charge like a madman into those windmills, and those arms would wrap themselves around me and hold me prisoner in an embrace worthy of a giant.

A new age has begun--one where your tongue has been returned to you, and you can use it to speak again. But not carelessly, so that it will be burned.

To the weak I became weak, that I might gain the weak: I am become all things to all men, that I may by all means save some.

For their sacrifice not only declared the existence of God in a hell on earth, not only did it say, "even here in Auschwitz--God." It declared the existence of a man; it said, "even here at Auschwitz--we are man."

H/T Julia : Golgotha of Jasna Gora – Artist: Jerzy Duda Gracz Here a bit more information about the images. In the shrine at Czestochowa, upstairs from the famous icon of the Bla…

this music was painting a sound that I couldn't recognize at the age of fifteen. At the age of fifteen, my heart hadn't made that sound yet.

Widmung, no. 1 from Myrthen, S. 566 The song cycle Myrtle Op. written by Robert Schumann in 1840 is based on works by many poets and dedicated to Clara Wieck (in picture). The first movement was adapted by Liszt.

stop me if you've heard this one...

Ulysses and eulogies Gainsborough, Gainsbourg, Socrates All mean no light, everything Oh, the joy of nothing is a sweeter someth.

That no matter how inexpertly we compose our thanks, no matter how clumsily we write our love-notes, we are still heard.

That no matter how inexpertly we compose our thanks, no matter how clumsily we write our love-notes, we are still heard.

the familiar chocolate smell of men smoking pipes

The happiest people are those who think the most interesting thoughts. Those who decide to use leisure as a means of mental development, .

a woman unaware that the fire with which she plays will burn her.

a woman unaware that the fire with which she plays will burn her.

So I kept walking up the stairs one at a time, keeping pace with my friend, as we moved slowly but surely farther along on our own adventure.

Hold on to me as we go As we roll down this unfamiliar road --Phillip Phillips, Home From my familiar tree branch, the world is.