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Ernst Zimmerman - El Avaro (The Miser), “La Ilustración artística”, 1897.

#Ernst Zimmerman #The Miser #demon #satan #drowned

A new fic idea

ok so I've been thinking again, and I NEED a marauders fic basen on "The Miser". It's stupid but I was literally thinking of them while reading it.

#dead gay wizards from the 70s #the marauders #fanfic #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #harry potter #The Miser #au idea

He's so greedy

#the binding of issac repentance #the binding of issac fanart #greed #the keeper #tainted keeper #tboi #crooked penny #lucky penny #nickle #dime #penny #the miser #tboi keeper

So we were watching a movie in class of this old play we're gonna be reading

and like

that's just straight up Miss Glinda The Good Witch™

like girly is doing THE MOST with her outfit and I'm kinda living for it tbh

#the way i RUSHED to take this photo #glinda upland #glinda the good witch #wicked #molière #the miser #< the play if ur curious #l'avare #frosine #la flèche

Ernst Zimmerman (1881-1939), 'El Avaro' (The Miser), ''La Ilustración artística'', Nov. 8, 1897 Source

#Ernst Zimmerman #german artists #the miser #avarice #vintage art #vintage illustration #you can't eat gold #but the rich are edible #La Ilustración artística

My particular flavor of nerd is learning full monologues.

I still remember somewhat correctly the nose monologue, from Cyrano de Bergerac, and the one from the Miser.

I still know by heart the Brennan break down monologue, and the Be Pretty episode.

Now, I’m waiting to assimilate by osmosis Tom’s part in the Don’t You Dare flurry

#which is arguably an interspersed monologue #i could listen to this man for hours #and by this man i mean any and everyone i’ve cited #cyrano de bergerac #the miser #l’avare #brennan lee mulligan #brennan breakdown #autodale #tom mayo #shoot from the hip #sfth

I was out last night, the very picture of a sneak, dark and hunched-over, breaking and entering again. Why do I do it? And why, when I can afford serious residences, do I keep to this one room? Perhaps if I had not lost track of the difference between the real and the ideal it would never have happened. I hide here almost entirely now. When I go out, when I creep into those silent houses, I steal newspapers. An armload, no more than I can carry comfortably. Sometimes they are already tied up on the side porch or by the kitchen stove. Nobody misses them. They think each other or the maid has carried them out to the street. They say there is something intractable out there, the Law, the Right to Privacy, the World. In the days when my obsession was only a wound-up toy, squeaking and jabbering in my chest, I could have believed them. I sit by the window today (There is very little space left now, though I have left corridors wide enough to walk through so I won't lose touch) holding my latest on my lap, handling them, fondling them, taking in every column. They are becoming more and more precious. My delusion grows and spreads. Lately it seems to me as I read of murders, wars, bankruptcies, jackpot winnings, the news is written in that perfect style of someone speaking to the one who knows and loves him. Long before they miss me, I think, the room will be perfectly solid. When they break in the door and, unsurprised, hardened to the most bizarre vagaries, begin to carry out my treasure, death's what they'll look for underneath it all, those fluent, muscled, imaginative men, sweating in their innocent coveralls. But I will be out in broad daylight by then, answering, having accepted utterly the heart's conditions. Tell them I wish them well, always, that I've been happy. —Mona van Duyn, "The Miser"

#poetry #poem #mona van duyn #the miser

#the miser

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