[mesogeios]

It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.

Rainer Maria Rilke (via mesogeios)

[incalescentheart]

[thefullerview]

Christian Science Plaza, Boston MA / David Fuller Photo

[laurabentbroad-deactivated20181]

“My kind of loneliness now has no cure, you know; it is something I expect to live with until I die. Friends are heavenly kind, sometimes fun; it would be fatal not to have them. But I by no means need or want daily contact; perhaps it takes as much out of me as it gives, perhaps takes more.”

— Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters of Martha Gellhorn (via luthienne)

[speciesbarocus]

Jusepe de Ribera - The Sense of Touch.

[namedrodrigo]

[geopsych]

“Is it not possible that a place could have a huge affection for those who dwell there? Perhaps your place loves having you there. It misses you when you are away and in its secret way rejoices when you return. Could it be possible that a landscape might have a deep friendship with you? That it could feel your presence and feel the care you extend towards it? Perhaps your favorite place feels proud of you …”

— John O’Donohue, from Beauty: The Invisible Embrace.

[water-aesthetics]

Sennen Cove, England

[tiny-librarian]

Detail of an earring from a 1781 self-portrait by Louise Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun.

[quotespile]

“The truth is that the heroism of your childhood entertainments was not true valor. It was theater. The grand gesture, the moment of choice, the mortal danger, the external foe, the climactic battle whose outcome resolves all – all designed to appear heroic, to excite and gratify and audience. Gentlemen, welcome to the world of reality – there is no audience. No one to applaud, to admire. No one to see you. Do you understand? Here is the truth – actual heroism receives no ovation, entertains no one. No one queues up to see it. No one is interested.”

— David Foster Wallace, The Pale King

[laclefdescoeurs]

Still Life of Flowers in a Basket, Jean-Baptiste Monnoyer

[tkkatherineblog]

IG @dirtyyydan

[hearteyedtaurus]

“Fragrance has always been next to holiness to me, in different ways — my casual visits to Churches and my hours in temples. I thought my nose was broken everywhere else: I couldn’t smell food, it held no memory, but I could divine the smell of Gods. They smelled to me like incense and still water.”

— Arabelle Sicardi, Perfume, Power, and God  (via lesgardenias)

[down-the-rabbith0le]

[gnossienne]

Markgräflichen Opernhaus in Bayreuth, reopened after six years of restoration (x)

[books-n-quotes]

Words, I think, are such unpredictable creatures. No gun, no sword, no army or king will ever be more powerful than a sentence. Swords may cut and kill, but words will stab and stay, burying themselves in our bones to become corpses we carry into the future, all the time digging and failing to rip their skeletons from our flesh.

Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me (via books-n-quotes)

[mystica-serpentem-deactivated20]