bloomed and faded

[crucifiedlovers]

I don’t know if love’s a feeling. Sometimes I think it’s a matter of seeing. Seeing you.

Marguerite Duras, Emily L. (trans. Barbara Bray)   (via fleurjaeggy)

[pacingmusings]

Le Triptyque de Noirmoutier, Agnes Varda, 2005

[oessa]

+46° 0’ 1.13", +6° 55’ 23.12"

[flowerytale]

Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks 1964-1980

[souris]

I'm not myself today, he thought. The heart flutters. Life damages the living. None of us are ourselves. None of us are like this.

Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

The Other Side of the Wind (Orson Welles, 2018)

[missjolandasmit-blog]

Olivier Saillard, creative director of Palais Galliera museum in Paris, curated an extraordinary dialogue between arts and fashion. The Madame Grès exhibition at the Musée Bourdelle dates from 2011.

Image: Pierre Antoine

[matou-en-peluche]

Just in case France win the world cup - here’s more useful French phrases as presented by the cat:

“I bought my new bow tie in the city.“ "I love my box.” “What do you think of my new glasses?” “Paws and whiskers…paws and whiskers.” “This is my favourite place in the garden.” “I am a beautiful butterfly." 

#Matou en Peluche

[souris]

I accuse him of becoming my supreme being, so that what happened was like a loss of faith.

Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses

[soracities]

One sin, I know, another doth provoke; Murder’s as near to lust as flame to smoke–

William Shakespeare, Pericles (via soracities)

[jareckiworld]

Henni Alftan  -  So Close Together    (oil on canvas, 2017)

[tonyleunging]

Close-Up (dir. Abbas Kiarostami, 1990)

[classyladiesarealwaysnear]

The world, somebody wrote, is the place we prove real by dying in it.

Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses (via classyladiesarealwaysnear)

[die-rosastrasse]

Edwin Henry Landseer

British, 1802-1873

Scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream (detail)

[kschottphoto]

Jama Masjid Delhi, India

[souris]

[extrapiano]

To understand just one life, you have to swallow the world. I told you that.

Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children (via extrapiano)