#fanny brawne

[mournfulroses]

John Keats, from a letter to Fanny Brawne, featured in The Selected Letters of John Keats

[didanagy]

ABBIE CORNISH as FANNY BRAWNE

BRIGHT STAR (2009) dir. jane campion

[greengableslover]

BRIGHT STAR (2009) dir. Jane Campion + Topper the cat

[burningvelvet]

"I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion – I have shudder‘d at it – I shudder no more – I could be martyr‘d for my Religion – Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you."

— — John Keats in a letter to his fiancé Fanny Brawne, 13 October 1819.

[GEN Z TRANSLITERATION]

“I have been astonished that Bros could die Simps for the grind – I have cring’d at it – I cringe no more – I could become a Simp for my Grind – Slaying is my grind – I could fuck with that – I could fuck with you.”

— John Yeets in a letter to his situationship Fanny Brawne, 13 October 1819.

[girlintheafternoon]

I fear I am too prudent for a dying kind of Lover. Yet, there is a great difference between going off in warm blood like Romeo, and making one’s exit like a frog in a frost. - John Keats in a letter to Fanny Brawne, c. March 1820

[prismaticxchromatics]

Bright Star (2009) Director: Jane Campion

"I had such a dream last night. I was floating above the trees with my lips connected to... to those of a beautiful figure, for what seemed like an age. Flowery treetops sprung up beneath us and we, um... rested on them with the lightness of a cloud." "Who was the figure?" "I must have had my eyes closed because I can't remember." "And yet you remember the treetops." "Not so well as I remember the lips." "Whose lips? Were they my lips?"

[dreamingthroughthenoise]

She wore the ring the rest of her life.

Fanny Brawne wore the engagement ring John Keats gave her until she died. Even though she did eventually marry, she never forgot him or what he meant to her.

My heart. 😭

[bluewillowmoon]

“For myself I know not how to express my devotion to so fair a form: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair. I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days—three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.”

— John Keats, love letter to Fanny Brawne, Newport, 3 July 1819