infinitesimal

infinitesimal

[girlnumbersix]

sometimes it is enough to just come on here and reblog pretty pictures

[gacougnol]

Marie Ottomann-Rothacher

Zahmer Star, 1950's

[imsoofuckingsad-deactivated2018]

she’s making eye contact with the moon again

[petaltexturedskies]

She could not say it...as she looked at him she began to smile, for though she had not said a word, he knew, of course, he knew, that she loved him. He could not deny it. And smiling she looked out of the window and said (thinking to herself, nothing on earth can equal this happiness) — 'Yes, you were right. It's going to be wet tomorrow. You won't be able to go.' And she looked at him smiling. For she had triumphed again. She had not said it: yet he knew.

Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse

[achasma]

Dolls-house Ceiling-Painting of a Cloudy Sky with Birds attributed to Nicolaes Piemont, c. 1690-1709.

[greencoding]

blurry shots taken after a storm

[askyea-poesy]

As other girls prayed for handsomeness in a lover, or for wealth, or for power, or for poetry, she had prayed fervently: let him be kind.

Anaïs Nin

[unscriptd-deactivated20260317]

Night and Her Daughter Sleep  Mary Lizzie Macomber

[blessyourheartlittleone]

virginia woolf's 1931 new years resolutions : "to have none. not to be tied. to be free & kindly with myself. sometimes to read, sometimes not to read. to go out, yes—but stay at home in spite of being asked. as for clothes, i think to buy good ones."

[gothredy]

[petaltexturedskies]

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals

[sakurabreeze]

“The air was blue, you could hold it in your hand. Blue. The sky was the continual throbbing of the brilliance of the light. The night lit up everything, all the country on either bank of the river as far as the eye could reach. Every night was different, each one had a name as long as it lasted.”

— Marguerite Duras, The Lover (via theperfumemaker)

[vivelareine]

A fragment of pink silk allegedly from a dress worn by Marie Antoinette. The silk was kept in a small box that noted the silk was given to the Beauregard family–in 1782, a Mr. Beauregard can be found on the list of members working in the House of the Queen.

source: Coutau-Begarie Auctions

[anintimacy]

“How light the raindrop’s contents are. How gently the world touches me.”

— Wislawa Szymborska, from View with a Grain of Sand: Selected Poems

[angesirene]

“—light of the world, hold me.”

— Mary Oliver, excerpt of “That Sweet Flute John Clare”, in West Wind (via antigonick)

[odedalony]

[tanou123]

☺