the neverending story~♥

Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add colour to my sunset sky..' Rabindranath Tagore.

This is my blog.
A relatively capsulated collection of sights, sounds, thoughts,
ideas and pieces of knowledge that interest and inspire me.

and with every revolution comes a song
pintrest
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Curiouser and curiouser..

Posts tagged light

(Source: simplypi)

There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.

Edith Wharton

lickystickypickyme:

He who lives in an awesome colored glass house, is better off than those in the big boring brick buildings. - LSPM

New York artist Tom Fruin’s outdoor sculpture Kolonihavehus in the plaza of the Royal Danish Library in Copenhagen.

Fruin’s sculpture is constructed of a thousand reclaimed pieces of plexiglass ranging in size from 2x2 to 24x36 inches. They originate from many sources, including a closed- down plexi distributorship near Copenhagen, a framing shop, the basement of the Danish State Art Workshops, and the dumpsters outside the Danish Architecture Center.

Kolonihavehuses were originally small garden sheds that were designed to give cramped and often impoverished city-dwellers a small plot and a refuge from city life.

hazor:

the rapture is in my room (by Bore)

We enjoy warmth because we have been cold. We appreciate light because we have been in darkness. By the same token, we can experience joy because we have known sadness.

David Weatherford (via thresca)

Nations, like stars, are entitled to eclipse. All is well, provided the light returns and the eclipse does not become endless night. Dawn and resurrection are synonymous. The reappearance of the light is the same as the survival of the soul.

Victor Hugo

‘Evening Light’ tree-lined road in Thornton Hough, Wirral, England.
Photo via Richard Lowkes.

‘Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I’m gazing at a distant star,’ I said. ‘It’s dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago. Maybe the star doesn’t even exist anymore. Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.’

Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun (via amourology)

(Source: quote-book)

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