brushstrokesandshutterclicks:

Sydney R. Jones, The Village Homes of England 

brushstrokesandshutterclicks:

Sydney R. Jones, The Village Homes of England 

Brel

Brel

Pablo Picasso - "Buste de Dora Maar 1". 1936

Pablo Picasso - "Buste de Dora Maar 1". 1936

comtesse-du-chocolat:

"Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know." — John Keats 

comtesse-du-chocolat:

"Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know."
John Keats 

“Secrecy flows through you,
a different kind of blood.
It’s as if you’ve eaten it
like a bad candy,
taken it into your mouth,
let it melt sweetly on your tongue,
then allowed it to slide down your throat
like the reverse of uttering,
a word dissolved
into its glottals and sibilants,
a slow intake of breath —

And now it’s in you, secrecy.
Ancient and vicious, luscious
as dark velvet.
It blooms in you,
a poppy made of ink.”

Margaret Atwood, “Secrecy (via foxesinbreeches)

aseaofquotes:

Sonia Sotomayor, My Beloved World
Submitted by quote-bucket.

aseaofquotes:

Sonia Sotomayor, My Beloved World

Submitted by quote-bucket.

“I am growing out my hair to teach myself
patience. I am going to cut it to teach
myself loss. On my best days I still don’t
always get out of bed. New York, we have
to stop meeting like this. I would have
texted you sooner but cabs at three a.m.
But boys who don’t mind if I don’t always
smile like I mean it. But the rain and I
don’t always have an umbrella. Everything
is an excuse, so who are we kidding? If you
write me a poem, I’ll probably make out
with you. No, I am not drunk. I just want to
see your naked elbows. I just want to
dye my hair an unacceptable color and
become a totally different person.”

Kristina Haynes, “Some Mornings, I Miss You” (via wrists)


René Magritte, Sixteenth of September, 1956

René Magritte, Sixteenth of September, 1956