shes-universal:

when it comes to taylor swift and new album theories you never know if you’re looking into them too much or not because you could be- but then you remember this woman more or less told us red was the title for her fourth album a year in advance and then again like a few hours before the livestream with a red filter and not a single one of us caught on

storminmybestdress:

So everyone’s speculating that the album name is going to start with an S and…

I don’t know if this was pointed out already by someone (it probably was but I’m too lazy to scroll down my dash to check) but I just noticed the picture she posted with the caption that was similar to the “Studio/ Birthday/ New Album/ Red Shoes” one had all its words starting with the letter S.

image

Without suffering, there’d be no compassion. —Nicholas SparksA Walk to Remember (via adventurestosainthood)

(Source: feellng)

Taylor Swift vs. The Bee.

joyfullycatholic:

I don’t get how people can take their Catholic faith so casually. LIKE GUYS.
THAT’S JESUS THAT’S ON THE ALTAR AND IN THE CONFESSIONAL.
AND JESUS’ MOTHER WANTS TO PRAY FOR US AND WANTS US TO BE HER CHILDREN TOO.
AND THE POPE IS THE DIRECT SUCCESSOR OF PETER.
AND LOOK AT ALL THE SAINTS WE GET TO BE A PART OF HISTORY WITH WHO ARE ALWAYS CHEERING US ON.
AND WE ARE IN COMMUNION WITH ALL THE OTHER CATHOLICS IN THE WORLD AND HEAVEN DURING MASS.
GUYS.

nivalingreenhow:

when McGonagall finds out that Ginny is pregnant, and that the Weasley and Potter bloodlines will converge, she marks on her calender the day the child will turn 11 and that is the day she retires 

nekama:

how do people on tumblr become so interesting that people actually willingly ask them about their life like i’ve been here for 3 years and i’m pretty sure half of you don’t even know my name

(Source: whatamarveloustune13)

Here’s to strong women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them. —Unknown  (via mlorets)

(Source: quotable-notable)

How amazing it is to find someone who wants to hear about all the things that go on in your head. —Nina LaCour, Hold Still (via poetrist)

(Source: justgirlythings)