Bellezza è destino

Anna, trainee attorney-at-law.

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“Sweeter than the early morning in summer.”

— Ernest Hemingway, from “For Whom The Bell Tolls,” written c. 1940

[manyother]

Claudia Cardinale, Paris.

The photo was taken by photographer Claude Azoulay in Paris in 1961, when she was sitting in a cafe on Boulevard Saint-Germain-des-Prés.

[poeticpicturism]

[overclassy]

[finita--la--commedia]

“This is late afternoon: a minute of precise fragrance, a knowing I will love you, every day more, with more longing, with no answers.”

— Sara Pujol Russell, from “Thinking Late Afternoon”, translated from Spanish by Noël Valis (via finita–la–commedia)

[hersuavevoice]

"I am blind. Blinded by May. I know nothing, except that the lilacs are in bloom."

[himneska]

Photographed by Josefine Seifert for Cecilie Bahnsen ‘Encore’ Collection.

[mrsclarkkent]

“Spring days smell of blurred memories–”

— Pentti Saarikoski, tr. by Herbert Lomas, from Contemporary Finnish Poetry: “A Fortunate Time,”

[frrenzetic]

[galerienoirchic]

9/7/1959- Milan, Italy: Millionaire Greek shipowner Aristotle Onassis, with opera star Maria Meneghini Callas outside the LaScala Opera House here

[finita--la--commedia]

“Today I carry even in my shadow your fragrance of spring …”

— Delmira Agustini, from “The Intruder”, translated by Alejandro Cáceres 

[theperfumemaker]

“That night I fell in love with a voice. Only a voice. I wanted to hear nothing more.”

— Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

[hannibalsmusic]

Visit Original Link

Boccherini, Stabat mater - XI. Quando corpus morietur

The King’s Consort - Robert King

*

Quando corpus morietur, fac ut animae donetur paradisi gloria. Amen. When my body dies, grant that to my soul is given the glory of paradise. Amen.

[hersuavevoice]

[syringavulgaris]

Mary Oliver, March

[hersuavevoice]

"Of course, none of this made any sense to me at the time. I didn’t pay attention to the meaning of things, but rather to their vivid expressiveness, and in my grandmother’s stories this was so powerful that the whole of Rome seemed to me like a gigantic stage where, to this day, centuries and millennia play the leading roles. After all, there were still beautiful backdrops everywhere; one couldn’t help but feel that actors might emerge from every street corner, that they were hiding in every cloud of dust; sometimes everything became so vivid that the buildings no longer seemed like stage sets at all, but rather like enormous vessels containing entire eras, and that every tiny step transports us in reality from one millennium to the next. In such moments, a peculiar fear always gripped me: I felt as if my spiritual balance were being shaken; I felt carried away by something or someone, slipping beyond the control of my consciousness; an uncanny uncertainty about the existence of my very self would overwhelm me."

— Gertrud von Le Fort, The Veil of Veronica

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