frozen tears

𝓛iv, she/her · infp · millennial · europe a dreamy and melancholy softness ♡ ꒱

[petaltexturedskies]

Katherine Mansfield, in a diary entry dated 14 October 1922, from Letters and Journals of Katherine Mansfield

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Vaslav Nijinsky, The Diary of Vaslav Nijinsky

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Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems

[zartha]

Kirsten Dunst as Marie Antoinette MARIE ANTOINETTE (2006) dir.: Sofia Coppola

[loveletters2myself]

[frrenzetic]

[frrenzetic]

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Bring me the sunset in a cup reckon the morning’s flagon’s up and say how many dew, tell me how far the morning leaps — tell me what time the weawer sleeps who spun the breadths of blue! Write me how many notes there be in the new robin’s extasy among astonished boughs — how many trips the tortoise makes — how many cups the bee partakes, the debauchee of dews! Also, who laid the rainbow’s piers, also, who leads the docile spheres by withes of supple blue? Whose fingers string the stalactite — who count the wampum of the night to see that none is due? Who built this little alban house and shut the window down so close my spirit cannot see? Who’ll let me out some gala day with implements to fly away passing pomposity?

Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I do wish we could make it a little more socially acceptable to wander the streets at night weeping inconsolably I feel like that would have a great catharsis factor for a lot of people

[thejingshi]

Marie Antoinette (2006) dir. Sofia Coppola

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Marina Tsvetaeva, from a letter to Rainer Maria Rilke, featured in Letters: Summer 1926

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Anna Akhmatova, from "White Flock" in Selected Poems

[fordarkmornings]

Charles Chaplin (French, 1825–1891) – Allégorie de la Nuit, 1874

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Rainer Maria Rilke, in a letter to Lou Andreas Salomé written c. January 1913, from Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: A Love Story in Letters

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Sylvia Plath, from the draft of "Poppies in July"

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I hope you believe that you can still make a beautiful life for yourself even if you lost many years of it to grief, or darkness, depression, or a wound that wouldn't close.

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and my head aches a little, and my heart a little more

Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Abiah Rooth, written c. May 1852