Book of life, or, Spiritual, social, and physical constitution of man, 1898
todays bird

shark vs the universe
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Show & Tell
Claire Keane

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
No title available
dirt enthusiast
sheepfilms
Misplaced Lens Cap
Today's Document
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

Origami Around

blake kathryn
AnasAbdin
Sade Olutola
noise dept.
Mike Driver

Kaledo Art

Love Begins

seen from Netherlands
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Thailand

seen from Malaysia

seen from T1

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from T1

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
@burritokween
Book of life, or, Spiritual, social, and physical constitution of man, 1898
The Powerpuff Girls S01E09
A few months before he passed away in 2003, a 74 year old children’s television host sat down in the same studio where he had filmed 895 episodes over 33 years and recorded one last message. It wasn’t for children. It was for the adults who had grown up watching him.
Fred Rogers hosted Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood on American public television from 1968 to 2001. For over three decades he walked into the same set, changed into a cardigan and sneakers, looked directly into the camera, and spoke to children as if each one of them was the only person in the room. He never raised his voice, never talked down to his audience, and never rushed a single moment.
In that final recording, he looked into the camera one last time and said “I’m just so proud of all of you who have grown up with us. And I know how tough it is some days to look with hope and confidence on the months and years ahead. But I would like to tell you what I often told you when you were much younger. I like you just the way you are.”
He passed away from stomach cancer on February 27, 2003. He was 74.
The Anatomy of Melancholy by Laura Makabresku
are u guys mad at me……..
sometimes I feel extremely forgettable
Shrek (2001) dir. Andrew Adamson & Vicky Jenson
Albert Camus, from a letter to María Casares featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959
I’ll always recommend crying, free your chest.
Foggy morning