Who he was, whence he had come, was known to no man. This much was certain,—the steppes, the Dnieper, the Cataracts, and Chertomelik, with its labyrinth of narrows, arms, islands, rocks, ravines, and reeds, had been his cradle. From childhood he had lived and communed with that wild world. He never warmed any place long. Caprice was the motive of his deeds. Some held him to be insane; for he was an unbridled, mad spirit. Why he was living in the world, what he wanted, whither he was tending, whom he served, he knew not himself. He served the steppes, the whirlwinds, war, love, his own fancy.

eurymedousa:

motherfuckingsoporpies:

lianachan:

beaconsoftomorrow:

bilbos-buttons:

The last thing I’m going to post/reblog about this issue.

If only more people on tumblr actually believed this. Some of them do, but they don’t act like it.

\m/

Best feminism post I’ve ever seen.

Yes thank you

eurymedousa:

motherfuckingsoporpies:

lianachan:

beaconsoftomorrow:

bilbos-buttons:

The last thing I’m going to post/reblog about this issue.

If only more people on tumblr actually believed this. Some of them do, but they don’t act like it.

\m/

Best feminism post I’ve ever seen.

Yes thank you

pitchbluesea:

Sorry for the not-hp-related stuff, but I’m kind of proud of this.

pitchbluesea:

Sorry for the not-hp-related stuff, but I’m kind of proud of this.