carey murdock

Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play… I tell you, that it is on things like these that our lives depend.

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Oscar Wilde (via -camus)

Isn’t this true. As humans we are a fickle bunch. So tender. It is great that there are those among us that can put their finger on some truth about us. That is what a great artist does. Enter Oscar Wilde.

(Source: dezasete, via vigilforafuddyduddy)