(via autobahnbeepbeep)

(via julie911)

I was a quick-wit boy diving too deep for coins
All of your street light eyes wide on my plastic toys
Then when the cops closed the fair, I cut my long baby hair
Stole me a dog-eared map and called for you everywhere

- Flightless Bird, American Mouth, Iron & Wine 

Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree. 

- Antoine de Saint-Exupery