Destitutus ventis, remos adhibe

•Hello, I’m Stephanie • Check out my studyblr I promise it's better than whatever this is.

[hwhwgwhnwnwbwbwg-deactivated202]

“Before you die , experience the love of a writer,poet or painter. If you are lucky enough to be an artists muse , they will immortalize you.”

-Soledad Francis

[natgeofound]

A woman working on a mosaic of Mary and baby Jesus in Vatican City. Photograph by James L. Stanfield, National Geographic

[weltenwellen]

Marya Hornbacher, Waiting

[shisasan]

𝚁𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚎 [𝟷𝟾𝟼𝟷-𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟷] 

[tealingual]

“…a language is always an inheritance from the past.”

— Ferdinand de Saussure, Course in General Linguistics (via linguisten)

[flowerytale]

Fire: from “A Journal of Love”, The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1934–1937

[apeironostalgia]

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth. 

- Oscar Wilde

a moodboard for @dahterrasse

[thoughtkick]

“Above all else, it is about leaving a mark that I existed: I was here. I was hungry. I was defeated. I was happy. I was sad. I was in love. I was afraid. I was hopeful. I had an idea and I had a good purpose and that’s why I made works of art.”

— Felix Gonzalez-Torres

[kafkasdiariies]

Palais des ducs et des États de Bourgogne, Dijon, France | Bernard Cribier

[daughterofliterature-deactivate]

—Oscar Wilde

(The photo isn’t mine. credit to owner.)

[metamorphesque]

— Blue Iris, Mary Oliver   

[ text ID: Now that I’m free to be myself, who am I? ]

[chillpotato]

Sylvia Plath

[awkward-sultana]

Roses by the Stream, Bing Hua / Olive, Again, Elizabeth Strout / Tumblr: amidstsilence / Call Me Zelda, Erika Robuck / The Binghamton Press, New York, February 6, 1926 / Unknown / Tumblr: rawhoneybliss / Margaret Atwood / February has come, gazergirl / Tumblr: bluereevesphotography / Great Men’s Houses, Virginia Woolf / Patience Strong

[theamoristwriter]

The undying love for you and poetry made me suffer terribly yet I'm bleeding happily

~Swarnadyuti

[weltenwellen]

Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

[classicarte]

Orfeo: Sente del mio martir – Nicola Porpora

« Sente del mio martir pietade almeno tutto, se non la bella mia tiranna. Amor le vola intorno e posa in seno, ma non le tocca il cor che alletta e inganna. »

Statue d'un ange.

[elmayordelosdiez]

Caravaggio, detalle de “Judith y Holofernes”