aristos achaion

"Sing, o, Muse..."

[atreides]

“To betray with a kiss. The reek of Judas. I took the brush to clean my teeth and thought of his mouth. Kiss of life, kiss of death. Come kiss me so that I can read your lips, deceptions scripted and waiting to be staged. His lying heart is in his mouth. When I kissed him this morning I tasted his fear.”

— Jeanette Winterson, excerpt of Gut Symmetries, 1997. (via bluebeardsbride-archive)

[iamrolanddanielbaldwin-deactiva]

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Loving this song!

[princesseroux-deactivated201309]

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You Can Be The Boss | Lana Del Rey

You can be the boss, Daddy You can be the boss Bad to the bone, sick as a dog You know that I like, like you a lot Don’t let it stop…

[adaemoniee]

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It’s not the album version/radio version - a better one, I dare to say.

[petaltexturedskies]

I have read your poems with my door locked late at night and I have read them on the seashore where I could look all round me and see no more sign of human life than the ships out at sea: and here I often found myself waking up from a reverie with the book open before me. Love all poetry, and high generous thoughts make the tears rush to my eyes, but sometimes a word or a phrase of yours takes me away from the world around me and places me in an ideal land surrounded by realities more than any poem I ever read.

Bram Stoker, from a letter to Walt Whitman written c. February 1872

[bloombound]

[exitwound]

when whitman said “i contradict myself. i am large… i contain multitudes” and wilde said “what are you? to define is to limit” and sumney said “i insist upon my right to be multiple”

[petaltexturedskies]

Lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of my soul, there in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.

Walt Whitman, leaves of grass

[petaltexturedskies]

The lilac-scent, the bushes with dark green heart-shaped leaves, wood-violets, the little delicate pale blossoms called innocence, samples and sorts not for themselves alone, but for their atmosphere, to grace the bush I love-to sing with the birds, a warble for joy of lilac-time, returning in reminiscence.

Walt Whitman, from "Warble of Lilac-Time" in Leaves of Grass

[ave-immaculata]

@materchristiapparel on ig

[popsgod]

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Summertime Sadness (Vocals Only) // Lana Del Rey

[deadlynigthshade]

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Lana Del Rey - Summertime Sadness [Studio Acapella]

[meinphis]

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Kiss me hard before you go

Summertime sadness

I just wanted you to know

That, baby, you’re the best

[petaltexturedskies]

Mary Oliver, from "Peonies"

[nighthorne-deactivated20131004]

women of greek mythology - echo (Ἠχώ)

Sometimes the young and beautiful nymph Echo would distract and amuse Zeus’ wife, Hera, with long and entertaining stories while Zeus took advantage of the moment to ravish the other mountain nymphs. When Hera discovered the trickery, she was so annoyed she punished the talkative Echo by taking away her voice, except in foolish repetition of another’s shouted words. Thus, all Echo could do was repeat the voice of another. (+ more) [1 / 2]

[neerdyunicorn]

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[lachantefleurie]

“The rose was created by Chloris, the Goddess of flowers. One day she found the lifeless body of a nymph in the woods and turned her into a flower. Chloris called upon Aphrodite who gave the flower beauty and Dionysus who added nectar to give it a sweet fragrance. Zephyrus, God of the West Wind, blew the clouds away so Apollo could shine and make the flower bloom.”