sweet nothing nothings

Henry, Virginia, USA, 26, oh so very gay. Not single, thank you. This thingie will more than likely consist of reblogged images of cats and attractive mens and nerdy things and writing stuff. Either for my own revelry or for inspiration for the books and stories I will undoubtedly be spending a long time writing.

sephiramy:

ourloveissemperfii:

"One day in the subway, James saw a red cat with a wound to the leg that likely resulted from a fight with another cat. It was obvious that the cat needed help. James could not pass and took the cat to the vet. With a little medical treatment and prescription drugs, the cat quickly recovered. At that point, James found it impossible to say goodbye to Street Cat Bob. Bob followed James everywhere he went. As James played the guitar on the street and Bob sat nearby, revenues increased dramatically. People found it difficult to pass when they looked at the cute kitty. James went on to write a book describing their adventures in the street which was full of life – both dramatic and comedic. In the book, James says that he could not have imagined how meeting Bob would change his life. His friendship with the cat healed him from a life that had been very hard. Most likely, if Bob could speak, he would say the same thing.”

Um, so here is a book I am going to go BUY… NOW.

When my husband [Carl Sagan] died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me — it still sometimes happens — and ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again.

Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don’t ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous — not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance… That pure chance could be so generous and so kind… That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time… That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful.

The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.

Ann Druyan (via theremina)

“I firmly believe in small gestures: pay for their coffee, hold the door for strangers, over tip, smile or try to be kind even when you don’t feel like it, pay compliments, chase the kid’s runaway ball down the sidewalk and throw it back to him, try to be larger than you are— particularly when it’s difficult. People do notice, people appreciate. I appreciate it when it’s done to (for) me. Small gestures can be an effort, or actually go against our grain (“I’m not a big one for paying compliments…”), but the irony is that almost every time you make them, you feel better about yourself. For a moment life suddenly feels lighter, a bit more Gene Kelly dancing in the rain.”

– Jonathan Carroll  (via theremina)