"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations."

Anaïs Nin (via atlantic-sky)

(Source: splitterherzen, via royalmeadow)

"

She is not “my girl.”

She belongs to herself. And I am blessed, for with all her freedom, she still comes back to me, moment-to-moment, day-by-day, and night-by-night.

How much more blessed can I be?

"

Avraham Chaim, Thoughts after The Alchemist (via petitedino)

(Source: avraham-chai, via petitedino)