
#extradirty
𓃗
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
art blog(derogatory)
Keni

No title available
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
occasionally subtle
Cosmic Funnies

No title available

roma★
cherry valley forever
$LAYYYTER
Fai_Ryy
tumblr dot com

Love Begins
taylor price

ellievsbear
The Bowery Presents
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵

seen from France
seen from Colombia

seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Chile
seen from Ecuador

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Lithuania

seen from Spain
seen from China
@sublimeromance
From Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto IV
Evil is a point of view
Evil is a point of view. We are immortal. And what we have before us are the rich feasts that conscience cannot appreciate and mortal men cannot know without regret. God kills, and so shall we; indiscriminately He takes the richest and the poorest, and so shall we; for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like Him as ourselves, dark angels not confined to the stinking limits of hell but wandering His earth and all its kingdoms.
Whatever happened to Lestat, I do not know. I go on, night after night. I feed on those who cross my path. But all my passion went with her golden hair. I'm a spirit of preternatural flesh. Detached. Unchangeable. Empty.
Louis de Pointe du Lac
I think how peaceful it is. I think what a wonderful place this is to come and escape from everything, to just cool out and relax and enjoy the serenity. But I never think about dead people. Looking at these old graves makes me think how generation after generation of the same family are all gathered together. And that makes me think about how life goes on, but not about dying. I never think about dying.
What other dungeon is so dark as one’s own heart! What jailer so inexorable as one’s self!
Nathaniel Hawthorne
The king-times are fast finishing. There will be blood shed like water, and tears like mist; but the peoples will conquer in the end. I shall not live to see it, but I foresee it.
Lord Byron Journal, January 15th, 1821, Ravenna
“In the soul’s haunted cell”
from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto III, Stanza V (April-July 1816)
The more I study, the more insatiable do I feel my genius for it to be. — Ada Lovelace (1815-1852)
If you think Lord Byron was mad, bad and dangerous to know, you should meet his family.