Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
— Langston Hughes (via hoodoothatvoodoo)
Literature was not born the day when a boy crying “wolf, wolf” came running out of the Neanderthal valley with a big gray wolf at his heels; literature was born on the day when a boy came crying “wolf, wolf” and there was no wolf behind him.
In shamanic cultures, synchronicities are recognized as signs that you are on the right path.
— Daniel Pinchbeck (via herlifeofleisure)