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catherinesboleyn

Isabelle Huppert as Alphonsine Plessis

Lady of the Camelias (1981)

fleurdulys

Les femmes fatales - Gerda Wegener

ofallingstar

Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid (1948)

undr

Three women walking heads down in blizzard, Chicago, 1930s

weltenwellen

I panic when my feelings are not clear. It is like staring into a muddy pond, and rather than wait until an ecosystem develops to clear the water, I prefer to drain the pond.

Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal

oldpaintings

Disappointed Love, 1821 by Francis Danby (Irish, 1793–1861)

embarrassinglovesong

Sleeping swan

memoryslandscape-deactivated202

“Calm down, my Sorrow, we must move with care. You called for evening; it descends; it’s here. The town is coffined in its atmosphere,”

— Charles Baudelaire, from “Meditation,” transl. Robert Lowell, Poetry (September 1961)

nuitfleurie

“I was deafened by your perfumed sounds and blinded by your flower-like face.”

— Han Yong-un, from The Silence of Love: “Your Silence”

snupinoexiste

“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we're reading doesn't wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.” ― Franz Kafka