2012/05/19
5,474 notes

I first laid eyes on June Carter when I was 18, on a Dyess High School senior class trip to the Grand Ole Opry.  I’d liked what I heard of her on the radio, and I really liked what I saw of her from the balcony at the Ryman Auditorium.  She was great.  She was gorgeous.  She was a star.  I was smitten, seriously so.  The next time I saw her was 6 years later, again at the Opry, but this time backstage because by then I was a performer too.  I walked over to her and came right out with it: “You and I are going to get married someday.”  June is formidable; she’s my solid rock.  She’s my spark plug.  When there are people to talk to and my shyness is welling up, she holds my hand.  June always sees that I’ve got the right thing to eat, if I’ll agree to eat it.  She likes the same kind of movies I do, and the same kind of TV shows.  She’s got charm, she’s got brains, she’s got style, she’s got class.  She’s silver, she’s gold, she’s got jewelry, she’s got furniture, she’s got china….she’s got a black belt in shopping.  She’s a vital performer, and it’s vital for me to have her on my concerts.  I just don’t want to travel if she can’t come with me.  She almost always does.  She’s my life’s companion, and she’s a sweet companion.  She and I have become so very close, so intimate.  Whenever I face a professional decision, I always put it to her because I know she’ll be both objective and honest.  She’s never judgmental.  She’s become everything that wife should be, in my mind.  We sleep together, we pray together, we travel together, we work together, and we’ve both found our particular place where we totally belong in every avenue of endeavor.  —Johnny Cash, From “Cash: The Autobiography”

(Source: mattybing1025, via liquidbits)

Tags: johnny cash sigh

2012/04/11
4,737 notes

“When my husband died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me — it still sometimes happens — and ask me if Carl changed at the end & converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again.

Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don’t ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous - not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance… That pure chance could be so generous and so kind… That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time… That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful…

The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.”

Ann Druyan, about her husband Carl Sagan

(Source: xezene, via ceedling)

Tags: always a reblog sigh

2012/02/21
1,486 notes

Love Letter from Johnny Cash to June Carter

(via coelacanthteeth)

Tags: sigh

2012/01/28
237 notes

(via ladcock)

Tags: sigh jeffrey

2012/01/19
3,841 notes

suicideblonde:

There is a question I have been wanting to understand the answer to, but have been feeling that I simply can’t ask. Eventually I just ask it anyway:

Do you think there was a part of you that imagined the two of you would somehow end up together?

Immediately, I wish that I hadn’t. The look on her face—a kind of juddering visceral alarm at what has been said…I don’t wish to see that look many more times in my life. “That would make me way too sad to answer,” she says quickly, and I hurriedly begin another question, about something completely different, hoping that if I say it fast enough these new words will chase the old words away from where they are hanging in the air between us, and maybe she will let me pretend that it was something I never said.

“No, no,” she says, and I can see the tears forming, and I think she means that she doesn’t want to answer any more questions about anything. I mutter some kind of apology under my breath.

But, even now, I’m wrong about everything. Mostly she is just trying to stop my new question. She has something to tell me.

“No,” she says. “I said it would make me too sad to answer but it’s also…”—and she nods even as her voice breaks once more with tears—”…one of my favorite things to imagine.” And through the tears, a beaming, almost beatific smile stretches room-wide across her face. “It’s actually one of my favorite places to visit.”

Michelle Williams by Chris Heath for GQ, February 2012

Teared up when I read this. 

oh my god I CANNOT HANDLE THIS. my heart is crumbling into a million pieces.

Tags: Michelle Williams Heath Ledger sigh