Iron Awe

fishingboatproceeds:

lostsplendor:

“To 1st Lt. F. Scott Fitzgerald
65th Infantry
Camp Sheridan 

Forget-me-not
Zelda
9-13-18
Montgomery, Ala”

“While stationed at Camp Sheridan, near Montgomery, Alabama, Fitzgerald met his future wife, Zelda Sayre, the daughter of an Alabama Supreme Court judge.” (via University of South Carolina)

World War I ended before Fitzgerald deployed. Had it gone on, there might have been no Gatsby.

It’s worth remembering that wars do not cost only lives, but also all the things those lives would make.

Whenever I hear someone in the Bush administration refuse to acknowledge that the Iraq War was a mistake (an honest mistake, I trust, but still a tragic one), I think of the would-be Fitzgeralds—American and Iraqi—whose flasks we will never see on tumblr, because we will never have the good and beautiful things they would’ve brought into the world.

(Source: gildaradner)

ireadintothings:

This poem keeps coming back to me.

By Glory Szabo

unypl:

“The Power of Now,” by Eckhart Tolle

Borrow I Read

I was walking behind him, absentmindedly looking as he wheeled his cart along the platform. He slowed down and I was about to pass him by when I noticed that his cart was painted with the titles of Eckhart Tolle’s books. So I went beside him and said hello. He stopped and turned fully towards me with a smile that seemed as if he had already been smiling. I told him that his cart had caught my eye, that I was wondering about it. He splayed his arms out wide in the air, sighed, still smiling, and said, “This. This is my work of gratitude. I painted this with my gratitude. I needed to show it.” He showed me each side of his cart, each one painted like the cover of another book by Tolle. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Years ago, I was another man. I was a man who suffered.” He took his hand off my shoulder and put it on his heart. “I had lots, lots of pain,” he said. Just then, the noise of an incoming train disrupted our conversation. We stood there just looking at each other, and he kept his hand on his heart the entire time. When it became possible to talk again, he said, “But now, I’m free. I found “The Power of Now” in the library, I read it there and I was free.” He pointed at his cart and said, “My belongings are inside. This is my mobile home. I’m free. In every moment, I’m free.” 

ohonestly:

i’ve been a fan of austin kleon’s work for a few years now, and i was eager to get my hands on his latest book, “steal like an artist”. billed as a “manifesto for creativity in the digital age”, it’s chock full of great quotes, illustrations, and advice on how to follow your interests and embrace your influences. and though the title says “artist”, the material inside is applicable to any medium. it’s perfect for creatively-frustrated creative types (which i know many of you are), and i loved it so much that i want to give you a copy!

what you’ll get

your very own copy of austin kleon’s “steal like an artist”, shipped anywhere in the world, at no cost to you.

the rules

you have until may 1st to enter.
every reblog is considered one entry (likes don’t count, nor do replies).
i’ll use random.org to choose three winners.
keep your inbox open so i can notify you if you win. if a winner doesn’t respond within 48 hours, a new one will be chosen.

good luck!

p.s. if giveaways aren’t your thing, you can always pick up a copy on amazon.
p.p.s. this giveaway is not affiliated with or endorsed by tumblr or my employer, new york media.

White Noise- Don DeLillo