If The Stars Should Appear One Night

z-o-l-a:

My dad gave our 2 month old English bulldog puppy a taste of strawberry Popsicle today. This is true happiness.

(via ohnoslothattack)

A magic rock. What a rock.

"I never read a line of Christian apologetics. I read as little as I can of them now. It was Huxley and Herbert Spencer and Bradlaugh who brought me back to orthodox theology. They sowed in my mind my first wild doubts of doubt. Our grandmothers were quite right when they said that Tom Paine and the free-thinkers unsettled the mind. They do. They unsettled mine horribly. The rationalist made me question whether reason was of any use whatever; and when I had finished Herbert Spencer I had got as far as doubting (for the first time) whether evolution had occurred at all. As I laid down the last of Colonel Ingersoll’s atheistic lectures the dreadful thought broke across my mind, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” I was in a desperate way."

- G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

(Source: the-last-crusade)

"Msgr. Yoannis Lahzi Gaid, a priest of the Coptic Patriarchate of Alexandria, has been made second personal secretary to Pope Francis. The position is among the Pope’s closest collaborators, and this marks the first time that an Eastern Catholic priest has been appointed to the position."

-

Pope Francis Names Coptic Priest Second Personal Secretary | Daily News | NCRegister.com

This is really encouraging to me for some reason.

(via frauluther)

"المدن رائحة: عكا رائحة اليود البحري والبهارات. حيفا رائحة الصنوبر والشراشف المجعلكة. موسكو رائحة الفودكا على الثلج. القاهرة رائحة المانجو والزنجبيل. بيروت رائحة الشمس والبحر والدخان والليمون. باريس رائحة الخبز الطازج والأجبان ومشتقات الفتنة. دمشق رائحة الياسمين والفواكة المجففة. تونس رائحة مسك الليل والملح. الرباط رائحة الحناء والبخور والعسل. وكل مدينة لا تُعرفُ من رائحتها لا يُعوَّل على ذكراها. وللمنافي رائحة مشتركة هي رائحة الحنين إلى ما عداها… رائحة تتذكر رائحة أخرى. رائحة متقطعة الأنفاس، عاطفيّة تقودك كخارطة سياحية كثيرة الاستعمال إلى رائحة المكان الأول. الرائحة ذاكرةٌ وغروب شمس. والغروب هنا توبيخ الجمال للغريب"

- "Cities are smells: Acre is the smell of iodine and spices. Haifa is the smell of pine and wrinkled sheets. Moscow is the smell of vodka on ice. Cairo is the smell of mango and ginger. Beirut is the smell of the sun, sea, smoke, and lemons. Paris is the smell of fresh bread, cheese, and derivations of enchantment. Damascus is the smell of jasmine and dried fruit. Tunis is the smell of night musk and salt. Rabat is the smell of henna, incense and honey. A city that cannot be known by its smell is unreliable. Exiles have a shared smell: the smell of longing for something else; a smell that remembers another smell. A painting, nostalgic that guides you, like a worn tourist map, to the smell of the original place. A smell is a memory and a setting sun. Sunset, here, is beauty rebuking the stranger. But to love the sunset is not, as they say, one of the attributes of exile.” - Mahmoud Darwish, In the presence of Absence (via nowinexile)

(via newspapersocks)

beawilderment:

he’s making it hop

this is the only thing I care about

(Source: -everdeen, via elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey)

"Democracy has become Empire’s euphemism for neo-liberal capitalism."

- Arundhati Roy, An Ordinary Person’s Guide to Empire (via riseabovethemadness)

(Source: takhtee, via bankston)

ralphfiennes-only:

headkemper:

my sexual orientation is ralph fiennes calling everyone “darling”

my sexual orientation is ralph fiennes.

(via uncivilwar13)

"3AM: the time to miss people who don’t miss you."

- Ten Word Story #11 - Ming D. Liu (via mingdliu)

(via phil0kalia)