i knew nothing but shadows and i thought them real.

[knewshadows]

@margueritestjust​

The word was Marguerite St. Just herself was in London. What was more -- the word was she was going ‘round productions, theatres, even the dodgy little ones like Sibyl’s own. Just thinking of it coloured her cheeks faint pink, and she felt overcome with fever under her pallid makeup. She would be Ophelia today and Imogen tomorrow, she would give her soul out to the audience today, then gather herself and find more to give the day after. Marguerite St. Just. She was sure that if she were ever to meet with her in person, she should faint.

And then there came Mr Isaacs, asking if she was done, asking her to hurry, and a glint in his eye just made her nervous. They were expecting someone, someone precious. Ah, how dare she find courage now?

[notrechristened]

❛      you look so beautiful today, sybil, my dear. utterly RAVISHING.   ❜   ah, she is all that is sweet in this world. worthy of it herself. no, she deserves the starts, the GALAXY. gladys, only a mere human, is only able to offer so little in comparison.   ❛      is that a new dress?     ❜    perhaps it isn’t, but it still looks AMAZING on her, as everything does. gladys catches a corner of it, sprawled on the picnic blanket as they are, smiling softly. ah, she only smiles gently with sybil, sybil who is gentleness incarnate herself.

@knewshadows

[knewshadows]

   the girl seems flustered by the cominent, as she ever is, giving gladys a humble smile, a tentative: “ah, thank you, i should -- i should say the same about you, m’lady...” ah, she so was not used to having lady friends, and she was certain this was what it felt like. she was crude and common but gladys knew her ways, gladys could smile and be graceful off stage without looking theatrical. gladys was a proper lady. sibyl never quite understood why she would choose her company but she had no reason to despise it. gladys was perfect in every way. like a heroine from ancient plays, she was torn and clever and beautiful.

“it is one of my mother’s,” she said, reaching to touch on the fabric, her hand brushing against gladys’s as she did so. a rose settled in her cheeks. “she found out where i was going and insisted that i look proper. i had to adjust it of course but it is quite comfortable.” another of those bashful smiles.

[astridbergesfrisbeymania]

“It’s beautiful when you have the opportunity to change from a completely inward role to a very organic, present role”

[knewshadows]

@beautydriven

   "Dorian!” It was curious how all of her world revolved around him all of a sudden, the way he came, whenever he was in the room, she was barely capable of focusing on much else, overwhelmed with good fortune and happiness that allowed the two of them to meet. She hurried to meet him halfway and just so happened to step on a sharp-edged thing on the floor, leaving her shrieking and stumbling when she finally came to face him. She was bashful about it, too. Pushing her hair from her face, looking up to him. “You came...”

[knewshadows]

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

words of shakespeare -- @notrechristened

        A few moments ago, she was a stuttering bashful thing, with her hand on a piquenique blanket just a few inches from Gladys’s, leaning forth whilst still keeping her distance, her eyes cast downward only occasionally to look up and meet the other’s, frightened almost by what she saw in there, even though it was nothing short of affection, brimmed with warmth, and Gladys had just had enough of them waiting on what the other would do.

A teasing gesture, the lady had a strawberry in hand, as red as her own lips, and proceeded to reach out to the small actress, offering food from her very fingers. How sweet it tasted, how rich it was in colour – and Sibyl could not help but think of those lips again when she first bit off the tip. Her eyes may have slipped, her cheeks may have coloured light pink. Gladys saw all that. 

Next thing the actress knew, there were lips against her own, gentle, sweet as a strawberry.

[knewshadows]

@desiderrium

The actress was almost lost in the grandeur of the old lice-ridden chair in her very own dressing room of the theatre, her feet tucked comfortably under herself and her applying the slightest amount of rouge to her lips, by finger. leaning forward in her chair to see herself in her mirror that was as neat but as lousy as the rest of the room. She seemed unfit to be there, yet somehow she herself did not realise it in her quiet concentration.

But then there came a knock at the door. Ah, before it even came she was sure she heard those steps -- the sound she learnt to know by heart, for she was already turning for the door when it opened, and then she was quick up on her bare feet, moving to meet her love with the most bashful smile. “Dorian! Dorian! wherefore art thou Dorian! I thought I’d heard you come into the corridor... I thought I’d heard your voice too, but I may have just imagined that already knowing you were here.”

A simple blush stole into her cheeks realising her excitement so borderless, in face of her Prince Charming.

[carolathhabsburg]

Miss Maude Fealy. Late 1890s

[anneboleyns]

[yesterdaysprint]

Misses True and Stewart, Junction City, Kansas, 1898

[subwaypoems]

You do not understand Ophelia because you don’t understand her helplessness. There is no beauty in being pushed until broken In having your voice stripped from you until you have no choice but to echo back pretty words, pretty phrases, pretty face Platitudes, strung along like pearls on a string.

You do not understand, you do not pity Ophelia because you have fought too long, too hard You have overcome the death and decay that forced her to her knees and sucked the sanity from her soul Leaving her the hollow memory of a girl, the afterthought of a dream you once had.

You despise Ophelia because you despise her helplessness. Her weakness Her status as a victim to the men in her life. The father who tied her down, the lover who drove her away, the brother who avenged her Too late in his realization that she was something to be valued to save her from himself.

You do not understand Ophelia because you don’t want to. You want to forget your helplessness Hide it behind sharp words, memory disguised as contempt Perhaps I am wrong and you hate Ophelia because her helplessness resonates in your bones, a reminder of being alone And scared

And helpless.

[knewshadows]

   starter call !! like this post for a starter from sibyl. probably will be on the shorter side as i try to find muse for her again <3

[knewshadows]

Shakespeare Edition {Sentence Starters}

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

"Now is the winter of our discontent."

"True is it that we have seen better days."

"To be, or not to be: that is the question."

"Parting is such sweet sorrow!"

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

"Neither a borrower nor a lender be."

"This is the short and the long of it."

"A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!"

"Tempt not a desperate man."

"I have not slept one wink."

"But love is blind, and lovers cannot see."

"Men of few words are the best men."

"Brevity is the soul of wit."

"This above all: to thine own self be true."

"Out, damned spot!"

"Can one desire too much of a good thing?"

"There's daggers in men's smiles."

"Though this be madness, yet there is method in it."

"The course of true love never did run smooth."

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

"True nobility is exempt from fear."

"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions."

"I'll not budge an inch!"

"I will speak daggers to her, but use none."

"What's done is done!"

[monetlilie]

[sandratempletons-blog]

[leejiuen]

Below you’ll find a link to #545 icons of Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey, in Angels of Sex. All of these were made by me, but there’s no texture or PSD on them, so feel free to edit them however you’d like. Credit isn’t necessary but it is appreciated, just don’t reupload these. Like or reblog if using.

hollow art: (1) - (2) - (3) 

[knewshadows]

variedintuitions:

“Oh!” He didn’t know who Jim was and he certainly didn’t know why his arrival had been so eagerly awaited, which gave him an inkling that this woman may have been mistaking him for someone else. 

The decision to come to the theater was quite a last minute one, and he was only going to try to pop in and find out how soon the show would be starting. But he wasn’t going to say no to what was expected of him just yet; not before he knew what it was. Besides, he always ends up where he’s meant to be. “What, um- What is it I’m meant to be doing?”

The actress hardly noticed his surprise at all, she was far too caught up in her own thoughts regarding the scene that would be happening and leading the other on into the depths of the theatre. His question had her stopping for a moment, but for a moment only. "Jim didn’t tell you? Ah, I s’ppose it doesn’t matter much now, we only need a technician! Don’t worry about it too much, Mr Taylor will walk you through it, he’s done it many times before! Come, come, it’s right through here...”

Pushing an entrance open, she grinned in face of a dodgy looking elderly man seated upon a giant box. “We are playing Hamlet, and I am Ophelia!” she announced, smiling, as if in place of a regular greeting. Just then did she turn her head to Dirk again. “This here is Mr Taylor, -- Mr Taylor, this is -- uh, I’m sorry, I must have forgotten your name!” Most genuine flush of embarrassment came over her pale face.

[knewshadows]

“ I don’t know what hurts me the most, myself or you. “ ( from dorian ! )

sad ? maybe. sentences. – @desiderrium

the small actress shivered like a spring flower in one last strike of winter. hungrily, she was reaching for the sun where it stood before her, whilst his eyes struck her as a thing of ice, thos marvelous lips uttering words that wounded. still in her was a will to still be so cheerful, there was faith and there was youthfulness beyond his own. unspoiled, and hoping.

“dorian, i beg you, please don’t say such things!” stepping in close, she was reaching for his hands, her chin turned upward as her gaze beseeched his.