(Source: tsarcasm, via beachtans-and-boybands)

(via thisisnotmyfairytaleendingg)

(via eatfoodnotbrains)

niggaquisha:

stay-ocean-mindedd said: stacey dillsen uncomfortable > miranda cosgrove uncomfortable. sry u lose

 UMMMM

Niall tearing up during his speech in concert at Izod Center, NJ (x)

(Source: niallispretty, via onedirectionstraighttohell)

toocooltobehipster:

omfg this girl just asked me harry style’s number so i gave her my number instead and she rung it 3 minutes later and i played a sound clip of harry saying “hi” and she started screaming and crying and she was like going crazy but i had no other sound clips so i just had to keep playing the one that said hi but she was screaming and crying and kept saying omg for like 5 minutes then i hung up and blocked her number

(via fiveboys-0nedirection)

(via thisisnotmyfairytaleendingg)

wowfunniestposts:

 I have a bruise..

what a funny blog

(Source: chaystar)

(Source: kevvybitch, via thisisnotmyfairytaleendingg)

(via eatfoodnotbrains)

visual-poetry:

“here’s looking at you, kid” by anatol knotek

silentcuriosity:

Sullivan Ballou Letter to His Wife Possibly the Most Romantic Letter Ever Written

Ironically, Sullivan Ballou’s letter was never mailed. It was found among Sullivan Ballou’s effects when Gov. William Sprague of Rhode Island traveled to Virginia to retrieve the remains of his state’s sons who had fallen in battle.

 That the remains of the man who supposedly penned the sad missive were treated in such a crude manner after his death presents an unbelievable irony and symbolizes the tragedy and horror of any war.  Ballou’s remains had been exhumed and desecrated by Confederate soldiers. He died at Bull Run. The morbid incident launched a congressional investigation and remains a controversy shrouded in mystery. SOURCE http://www.pbs.org/civilwar/war/ballou_letter.html

My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days — perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more. Our movements may be of a few days duration and full of pleasure — and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine, O God be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battle field for my Country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing — perfectly willing — to lay down all my joys in this life to help maintain this Government and to pay that debt.

Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field.

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them for so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown up to honorable manhood, around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness …

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights … always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again …

Sullivan Ballou was killed a week later at the first Battle of Bull Run, July 21, 1861.

She never re-married. She died at age 80 in 1917.
Sullivan and Sarah Ballou are buried next to each other at Swan Point Cemetery in Providence, RI. 

(Source: slitwristsandbrokenhearts, via niggaquisha)

(via oh-woah)

larmoyante:

Letter from Picasso to Gertrude Stein

(via oh-woah)