#literature edit

[regencysource]

Vanity Fair (2018) SE1E04 - In Which Becky Joins Her Regiment

[lhzthepoet]

Sometimes I am the siren, sometimes I’m the lover who drowned. x

[ronandreams]

moodboard: hades, god of the underworld

"i see the soul. what burdens it, what corrupts it, what destroys it — and challenge it."

[edelweiss-maiden]

𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙, 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖉. 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖉𝖘, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖘. 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖔𝖋?

[herheartwasintherightplace]

Cold Comfort Farm, 1995

[khadijamalyk]

[ariadnethedragon]

DEATHLESS, CATHERYNNE M. VALENTE

‘You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut’

[palaceoftears]

Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices than merely to keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world’s view of us. For example, when Captain Bartolus saw Orlando’s skirt, he had an awning stretched for her immediately, pressed her to take another slice of beef, and invited her to go ashore with him in the long-boat. These compliments would certainly not have been paid her had her skirts, instead of flowing, been cut tight to her legs in the fashion of breeches. And when we are paid compliments, it behoves us to make some return. Orlando curtseyed; she complied; she flattered the good man’s humours as she would not have done had his neat breeches been a woman’s skirts, and his braided coat a woman’s satin bodice. Thus, there is much to support the view that it is clothes that wear us and not we them; we may make them take the mould of arm or breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their liking. So, having now worn skirts for a considerable time, a certain change was visible in Orlando, which is to be found if the reader will look at above, even in her face. If we compare the picture of Orlando as a man with that of Orlando as a woman we shall see that though both are undoubtedly one and the same person, there are certain changes. The man has his hand free to seize his sword, the woman must use hers to keep the satins from slipping from her shoulders. The man looks the world full in the face, as if it were made for his uses and fashioned to his liking. The woman takes a sidelong glance at it, full of subtlety, even of suspicion. Had they both worn the same clothes, it is possible that their outlook might have been the same.

-Orlando, Virginia Woolf