Café Verona

"You will all be caught with your diapers down.
That is a promise.
For right here, today. Standing on the very head of my mother, which is now on God's green earth, which everybody who wasn't born in a fucking sewer ought to know and understand to the very marrow of their bones.
There is nowhere, absolutely nowhere, in this god forsaken valley.
I'm talking about from the range of my voice, right here clear out to the goddamn Mojave Desert and beyond that.
None of that area will be called the safety zone.
There will be no safety zone.
I can guarantee you the safety zone will be eliminated.
You will all be extradited to the land of no return."

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again,

because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause;

who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly

— Theodore Roosevelt

February 23, 2014, 4:16pm  0 Notes

“People fear death even more than pain. It’s strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend.”

— Jim Morrison

April 05, 2013, 2:00pm  4 Notes

The real meaning of “Keep Calm and Carry On”

The real meaning of “Keep Calm and Carry On”

April 05, 2013, 9:05am  14 Notes

March 20, 2013, 9:07am  17 Notes

March 19, 2013, 8:29pm  8 Notes

March 15, 2013, 11:10am  13 Notes

It was a Bright Winter Sunday from MrBirtakim on 8tracks Radio.

February 03, 2013, 5:13pm  0 Notes

December 21, 2012, 4:45pm  4 Notes

Bill and Hillary Clinton, 1972

Bill and Hillary Clinton, 1972

December 11, 2012, 3:50pm  0 Notes

“I only remember my father for one month my whole life, when I was 10. And it wasn’t until much later in life that I realized, like, he gave me my first basketball and it was shortly thereafter that I became this basketball fanatic. And he took me to my first jazz concert and it was sort of shortly thereafter that I became really interested in jazz and music. So what it makes you realize how much of an impact [even if it’s only a month] that they have on you. But I think probably the most important thing was his absence I think contributed to me really wanting to be a good dad, you know? Because I think not having him there made me say to myself ‘you know what I want to make sure my girls feel like they’ve got somebody they can rely on.’”

— Barack Obama


December 11, 2012, 10:21am  3 Notes

December 11, 2012, 9:24am  5 Notes

(Source: nevver)

Reblogged from Never ever tell anyone I was here.

December 11, 2012, 9:01am  4181 Notes

Things I Say to Myself at Meetings

  •  - The hell am I doing here?
  •  - Oh is that a chocolate chip cookie?
  •  - Can't you just once try to arrive in time for FUCK'S SAKE
  •  - Shall I write that down? Oh thanks for repeating but slower, SLOWER I TOLD YA!
  •  - I wonder if the CEO can hear me crunching? This is some tough cookie.
  •  - I didn't understand a word you said but I totally agree with you and your cleavage.
  •  - I guess that look meant he hears well. SHITDAMNFUCKTITS
  •  - Maybe I should just quit the job and flee.
  •  - What would they do if I suddenly stand up and start dancing on the table?

December 04, 2012, 11:59am  3 Notes

Three years later, as he was looking out of the window at the grey seagulls standing indifferently atop a mattress on a low roof under pouring rain, he was to remember that distant sunny may day. It was the day the decomposition started, looking back at it now, but at the time all would seem perfectly fine to a stranger’s eyes. Everything was in its right place; the wind was carrying the smell of home to the small front porch (a familiar mixture of wet concrete, cat poop, dust, fried onions and a subtle scent of a woman) a creamy broccoli soup was slowly boiling at the kitchen, the tiny cat was chasing a fly, she was lost in a fantasy book again, the sun was shining so bright and amid the buzzing of bees harvesting on pinkish flowers of the tall cherry tree, he was watching the world fall apart: The world as he knew it was collapsing with every tick of the clock and he calmly accepted the fact that there was nothing at all he could do to prevent it.

December 03, 2012, 7:01pm  2 Notes

“Yaşanan şeyler ne olur, nerede durur? Hatırlamaya ve belleğe ilişkin eğretilemeler beni kesmiyor. Tozlu tavan arasına girmek, eski bir sandığı açmak, sararmış bir defterin sayfalarını çevirmek filan diyorum, beni kesmiyor. Geçmişimizle bağlantı kurmanın tek yolu hatırlamak mıdır? Başka bir eylem yok mu, olamaz mı?”

— Barış Bıçakçı, Bizim Büyük Çaresizliğimiz

December 03, 2012, 1:38pm  37 Notes