@aiutidalla - Tumblr Blog

“I want the cottage. I want the green grass and the tomato plants. I want the peace in you; the front porch rocking chair lullaby; our cricket legs rubbing together under the covers. We can’t have it all. I know that, but humor me. We can’t have it all, but we can have most of it.”

— Caitlyn Siehl, from Apply Pie Life

weltenwellen

“In front of my mother and my sisters, I pretend love is cheap and vulgar. I act like it’s a sin– I pretend that love is for women on a dark path. But at night i dream of a love so heavy it makes my spine throb.– I dream up a lover who makes love like he is separating salt from water.”

— Salma Deera, “salt”

petaltexturedskies

April advanced to May: a bright serene May it was; days of blue sky, placid sunshine, and soft western or southern gales filled up its duration. (...) it became all green, all flowery;

Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (1847)

pclysemia

“And I’m finally beginning to suspect that perhaps we’re not meant to understand life. All these furious attempts to explain and understand, this ongoing quest for the truth, may be a dead end. We bless the sun because we live the exact distance from it that is beneficial. A few million miles closer or farther away and we would burn or freeze to death. What if the truth is like the sun?”

—

Hjalmar Söderberg, from Doctor Glas

(Anchor, 2002;

first published 1905)

snoppy

open up your heart like the gates of hell btw. if you even care

jamesusilljournal

Burning Embrace, Miles Johnston, 2022

fravery

Reach Out Alison Johnson. 2018

365filmsbyauroranocte

Une femme mariée (Jean-Luc Godard, 1964)

macrolit

“Reading well is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you, because it is, at least in my experience, the most healing of pleasures. It returns you to otherness, whether it yourself or in friends, or in those who may become friends. Imaginative literature is otherness, and as such alleviates loneliness. We read not only because we cannot know enough people but because friendship is so vulnerable, so likely to diminish or disappear, overcome by space, time, imperfect sympathies, and all the sorrows of familial and passional life.”

— How to Read and Why, Harold Bloom

pclysemia

“Deep within everyone’s heart there always remains a sense of longing for that hour, that summer, that one brief moment of blossoming. For several weeks or months, rarely longer, a beautiful young woman lives outside ordinary life. She is intoxicated. She feels as if she exists beyond time, beyond its laws; she experiences not the monotonous succession of days passing by, but moments of intense, almost desperate happiness.”

— Irène Némirovsky, from Jezebel (Vintage, 2010; first published 1936)

fravery

Paul Evans Winter Light

medley

paper flowers | by 阿南鲜花纸艺

britomart

[ID: two photographs of large realistic paper poppies made out of translucent white paper, photographed agaisnt a light blue-grey background with light shining down on them. /end ID.]