My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you’ve been mean to someone, they won’t believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it’s time to stop being nice, then destroy them.
Laurell K. Hamilton  (via syreenikohtu)

2,300 plays

aaajmachine:

Nirvana - Sam Smith

This moment has caused a reaction, Resulting in our reattachment, Yeah well you take me to Nirvana, I don’t think this will last, But you’re here in my arms…

emonydax:

honey maid (gently, sweetly) throws down against homophobia

New plan. I’m gonna charm her.

6,453 plays

wargsansa:

Until now, I knew this of myself
That if you had thrown yourself down
Into the lion’s den
My brother I’d follow you in
Perhaps I lack some foresight (should have known)
But brother you were so right
Sure as the setting sun
You can’t trust just anyone

fallontonight:

Paul Rudd’s dancing on Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon :D [x]

Saturday night. Go wild!

Ryan Hansen, Kristen Bell, and Jason Dohring grabbing eachother’s butts at the premiere of “Veronica Mars” in Los Angeles (◡‿◡✿)

slaughterhouse90210:

“We’ll choose knowledge no matter what, we’ll maim ourselves in the process, we’ll stick our hands into the flames for it if necessary. Curiosity is not our only motive; love or grief or despair or hatred is what drives us on. We’ll spy relentlessly on the dead; we’ll open their letters, we’ll read their journals, we’ll go through their trash, hoping for a hint, a final word, an explanation, from those who have deserted us—who’ve left us holding the bag, which is often a good deal emptier than we’d supposed.”  ―Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

slaughterhouse90210:

“We’ll choose knowledge no matter what, we’ll maim ourselves in the process, we’ll stick our hands into the flames for it if necessary. Curiosity is not our only motive; love or grief or despair or hatred is what drives us on. We’ll spy relentlessly on the dead; we’ll open their letters, we’ll read their journals, we’ll go through their trash, hoping for a hint, a final word, an explanation, from those who have deserted us—who’ve left us holding the bag, which is often a good deal emptier than we’d supposed.”
―Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

What if we were sent here for a reason?