[yearningheart]

Nate Pritts, Endless Summer

[beguines]

Pádraig Ó Tuama, Kitchen Hymns

[beguines]

People sometimes say that God becomes clearer in moments of suffering, but this is not necessarily true. What becomes clear is one's longing for God. Everything is stripped away, and very little else seems to matter.

Miroslav Volf and Christian Wiman, Glimmerings: Letters on Faith Between a Poet and a Theologian

[heavensghost]

the memory hurts but does me no harm

[literaryvein]

L. V., excerpts from a past life

[wovi]

*

joy sullivan

[kuchipachi]

white flag by lucia gallipoli

[el-im]

Joan Didion, writing about the shock that followed after the death of her husband, John.

[petaltexturedskies]

June, July, August. Every day, we hear their laughter. I think of the painting by van Gogh, the man in the chair. Everything wrong, and nowhere to go. His hands over his eyes.

Mary Oliver, from "August"

[girlfictions]

Maggie Smith

[heavensghost]

Susan Orlean, The orchid thief

[formlab]

Natural History, Gavin Snider

[seekingstars]

HOW’S THAT HOUSE THAT RAISED YOU? - Lev St. Valentine

[hereiswhatremains]

"My God, my God, whose performance am I watching? How many people am I? Who am I? What is this space between myself and myself?"

— The Book of Disquiest by Fernando Pessoa via @luthienne

[feral-ballad]

Carrie Fountain, from Burn Lake; “Burn Lake 4”

[nemfrog]

Attraction and Repulsion. Modern views of electricity. 1892.

Internet Archive

[kaos-teorema]

anatomie de l'enfer (catherine breillat, 2004)