like patience on a monument

or, if there were a sympathy in choice, war, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, making it momentary as a sound, swift as a shadow, short as any dream, brief as the lightning in the collied night, that, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth and ere a man hath power to say "Behold!" the jaws of darkness do devour it up: so quick bright things come to confusion.

[toastbutteregg]

[g1deonthen1nth]

we have GOT to cut to the fucking feeling

[noahverrier]

My oil painting of a grilled cheese sandwich

[copperbadge]

Grill Life with Cheese

[sapokanikan]

You know what? Fuck you *untames the shrew*

[elizabethan-memes]

Yes

YES

The shrew is free

[horse-reference]

"McSteamy" Percheron gelding (grey)

[swanlakereturns]

the nastiest pornographers in the land are drawing your heraldic beast looking doe-eyed and lame in the jaws of my heraldic beast

[murderpod-diaries]

Therapist: and what do we say when people ask us about ourselves

Murderbot: I have to check the perimeter

Therapist: no

[kingcriccket]

you CANNOT read too much old timey fiction because I was playing Raft with the lads this morning and without a THOUGHT said we could sail over to another island "if the wind would consent to blow" & let me tell you. This did not pass by unremarked.

[boobookittenartblog]

Nishiyama Hoen, Insect Procession,

detail, ink and color on silk, 1851

[slimetony]

Just tried to play an ancient flute and it started filling the room with this awful miasma that wont go away

[slimetony]

Why does staff still allow people funnier than you to leave tags on your posts. They should have fixed that by now

[jestermolester]

Brief moment of horror at work bc I forgot what I named my phone for a sec

[werewolf-transgenderism]

whatever hildegards your bingen

[louisetaylor]

whatever julians your norwich

[werewolf-transgenderism]

whatever margerys your kempe

[theadhdgoblin]

[chaoticgouda]

I’m sorry milord, but the peasants are nailing erotic artwork of you and your court jester to the church doors again

[fieldbears]

and the ship name, squire? what is the ship name

[artemis-in-space]

“… Kinglebells, m'lord.”

[polkadotmotmot]

Emily Palmquist - Easy Keeper, 2021 - Oil and gold enamel on canvas

[urie]

ever since the costume designer revealed that ilya is wearing rick owens in the tuna melt scene its all i can think about while im watching it. let me put my rick owens on for this. hand down the front of my rick owens cradling my half chub. frotting in my rick owens. cum cooling on my rick owens while the love of my life rejects me. dejectedly sitting on the couch covered in cum. in my rick owens

[urie]

i found out those pants are handwash only btw. as if it all wasnt humiliating enough

[anxeious]

[oncewild]

thinking about this bit from an article by Ann Druyan in 2003:

“When my husband died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me – it still sometimes happens – and ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again. Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don’t ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous – not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance… That pure chance could be so generous and so kind… That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time… That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful… The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived.

That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday.

I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.”