The problem, often not discovered until late in life, is that when you look for...– Neil deGrasse Tyson (via geographysucks)
Woman v. The Government (with a twist)
Woman: I cannot afford to have a child right now. Can I have birth control?
Woman: I got pregnant but I cannot afford to have a child and I'm not ready to be a parent. Can I have an abortion?
Woman: I had the child, but I cannot afford to raise him. Will you help me out?
Woman: I guess I'll have to give my child up for adoption.
Barry and Steve: We would love to raise your child. We have been in a committed relationship for 15 years. We have steady careers and are very successful and financially stable. We love children and wish to provide a loving nurturing environment for your child. Would you be willing to give your child to us?
Woman: Sure, as long as it's ok with the government.
(via aubade: I hope Rick Santorum is always getting locked out of his email account because he mistypes his password on his phone and then can’t read the captcha properly and can’t prove that he’s human.
‘Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies,...– Dwight D. Eisenhower, From a speech before the American Society of Newspaper Editors, April 16, 1953 (via lilouette)
(via joshishollywood: Honestly, you’d figure that the fact that pain and loneliness do not discriminate based on what sorts of privileges one has would actually result in some unity and compassion instead of attempts to dictate what one can and cannot be upset about.
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective...– Mary Schmich
Folded boats of pink almond leaf float down pavements in the wind, bright coins of beech jink and shuffle in the pockets of the trees, crumble of dry tobacco dust in gutters, the tulip tree is holding on to leaves of bright green, bantam bronze, refusing to let go, the horse chestnut frees a last enormous leaf which settles on the ground. An upturned hand. Open to anything. Gill McEvoy
What Lot's Wife Would Have Said (If She Wasn't A...
(via eating-poetry: Do you remember when we met in Gomorrah? When you were still beardless, and I would oil my hair in the lamp light before seeing you, when we were young, and blushed with youth like bruised fruit. Did we care then what our neighbors did in the dark? When our first daughter was born on the River Jordan, when our second cracked her pink head from my body like a...