There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter—the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last—the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion. And whether it is a farmer arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference: each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh yes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company… — E.B. White, ‘Here is New York’

There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter—the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last—the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion. And whether it is a farmer arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference: each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh yes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company… — E.B. White, ‘Here is New York’

(via pomulo)

(Source: pavpich, via fiebre)

(Source: skinnyblog)


The full moon rises through the Olympic Rings, hanging beneath Tower Bridge, during the London 2012 Olympic Games - August 3, 2012.

The full moon rises through the Olympic Rings, hanging beneath Tower Bridge, during the London 2012 Olympic Games - August 3, 2012.

(via museum-girl)

(Source: trpbl, via 87daysbefore)


Emma Stone in The Amazing Spiderman

Emma Stone in The Amazing Spiderman

(Source: seaofwhite, via skeletales)

Finding a bug in my room

whatshouldwecallme:

When I’m too scared to kill it, I’m like:

When my boyfriend is too scared to kill it, I’m like:

When 22 people reblog something you have written and you are just like OMFG

When someone asks if there are cute guys in law school

whatshouldwecallme:

When I'm drunk and my best friend says she feels fat & ugly

whatshouldwecallme:

milktree:

Lagoons in Brazil

milktree:

Lagoons in Brazil

(via iamnocturnal)