![dont-you-w-o-r-r-y:
tiffany1fugit:
l-umiere:
nerahsladnuh:
Einstein and his therapist.
I will always reblog this.
i’ve been looking for this picture for ages, i love it, something about it just…gets to me
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“happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know”](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_luzqtrd1QZ1qkxazno1_250.jpg)
For look — I am at war, my dear,
With the whole universe. I know
There is no medicine for my woe.
Believe me, it is called Despair.
It runs in all my veins. I pray:
It cries in all my words. I am
The very glass where what I damn
Leers and admires itself all day.
I am the wound — I am the knife
The deep wound scabbards; the outdrawn
Rack, and the writhing thereupon;
The lifeless, and the taker of life.
I murder what I most adore,
Laughing: I am indeed of those
Condemned for ever without repose
To laugh — but who can smile no more.
— Charles Baudelaire, “The Man Who Tortures Himself” (1861)
