[timotaychalamet]

In The Mood For Love (2000) dir. Wong Kar Wai

[petaltexturedskies]

I believe in some blending of hope and sunshine sweetening the worst lots. I believe that this life is not all; neither the beginning nor the end. I believe while I tremble; I trust while I weep.

Charlotte Brontë, Villette

[venerable-thief]

I am a huge fan of retiring to my quarters

[eaglingarchive]

Its nice to be corporeal by which i mean having a physical form with which to interact with the world around you but i will not lie to you there are problems associated

[fugengulsen]

Jean Moral. The woman and the bird 1931

[inartchive]

Faruk Özcan. ArtJewelryByMoko

[fashionlandscapeblog]

Bolesław Biegas

Sen Boga (God's Dream), 1905

[saintsebastiensbf]

Anna Akhmatova, The Fifth

[hautescouture]

christian dior s/s 2007 backstage

[pogphotoarchives]

Horseback riders in deep snow, New Mexico

Photographer: Jesse Nusbaum Date: 1910 - 1925? Negative Number: 158117

[exhaled-spirals]

« The sea refreshes our imagination because it does not make us think of human life; yet it rejoices the soul, because, like the soul, it is an infinite and impotent striving, a strength that is ceaselessly broken by falls, an eternal and exquisite lament. The sea thus enchants us like music, which, unlike language, never bears the traces of things, never tells us anything about human beings, but imitates the stirrings of the soul. Sweeping up with the waves of those movements, plunging back with them, the heart thus forgets its own failures and finds solace in an intimate harmony between its own sadness and the sea’s sadness, which merges the sea’s destiny with the destinies of all things. »

— Marcel Proust, "La Mer" from Les Plaisirs et les Jours

[charmingnotion]

Jean Cocteau’s La belle et la bête, 1946

[mariaangels]

Ivan Terestchenko

[booer]

[yan-wo]

The Conference of the Birds, Persian Manuscript, circa 1600; Safavid Iran (Isfahan)

[duino-elegies]

The church of Raron is where Rainer Maria Rilke was buried.

[exhaled-spirals]

« Immensely generous, my books make no demands on me but offer all kind of illuminations.

[…]

I have no feelings of guilt regarding the books I have not read and perhaps will never read; I know that my books have unlimited patience. They will wait for me till the end of my days. »

— Alberto Manguel, The Library at Night