her gingerbread dress @unpetaling - Tumblr Blog

“Moon girls, where did you go?”

— Anne Sexton, from The Complete Poems; “Iron Hans,” wr. c. 1963 (via violentwavesofemotion)

If you’ve been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you—you will know that there comes in the end a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing was ever going to happen again.

C.S. Lewis (via fleurstains)

waltzofthesnowflakes

unpetaling

Ernest Hemingway: Salt water, rum, coconut and lime, cigar smoke, Spanish wine

F. Scott Fitzgerald: Gin, citrus, oak (prep school, amirite), in a champagne-flute shaped bottle with gold flecks in it

Jane Austen: Darjeeling tea, snowdrops and pansies (flowers from her garden), meadow grass

Dorothy Parker: Whiskey sour, vanilla, mandarin, white musk

Edgar Allan Poe: Poppies, absinthe, sandalwood, and mold

Flannery O’Connor: Church incense, soap, vanilla, ginger

Jack Kerouac: Cigarettes, cheap beer, unwashed youth, patchouli, car leather

the Bronte Sisters: Heather, sea air, vetiver, primrose, black tea

Louisa May Alcott: Fir tree, red currant, blood orange, coffee beans

Tolstoy: Vodka, musk, black tea, black peppercorn, cedar

Sylvia Plath: Freshly washed linen, vanilla, daffodils, lavender

Margaret Mitchell: Musk, magnolia, tea, sugar, gardenia blossoms

Dickens: Cloves, tobacco, patchouli, brandy water, river water

Anne Sexton: Vodka martini, tobacco, lemon verbena, peppermint

ohsoromanov

“I had got from England a preparation for the children’s hair, and was rubbing it into little Anastasia’s head one evening. She objected, and I said, ‘It will make your hair grow nicely, darling,’ so she submitted. Next evening I went to get the kappuka from the cupboard and mademoiselle ran off in the next room. She returned dragging by its leg an awful dolly, a regular fetish, minus a wig, one eye, and an arm. She gravely took a little piece of sponge and began to rub the kappuka into the creature’s head. I remonstrated; telling her I had to send to England for the stuff and did not want it wasted. She looked at me most reproachfully, and said, ‘My poor Vera! She has got no curls; this will make her hair grow.’ Of course she got her way.”

- Nanny Mrs. Eager (via ohsoromanov)

blushingbeetred

autumndewilde

LULA MAGAZINE #11

WHITE CHALK story with KIRSTEN DUNST

STYLED BY KATE AND LAURA MULLEAVY OF RODARTE

shot in martha’s vineyard

betterneverthanlate-deactivated

All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.

Sylvia Plath (via lavandula)

achildlikeprincess

beauty and the beast for rose-daughter

funeral-wreath

The dark woods still rustle around me; the rich flowering grass and the bright flowers, which were my cradle, still shed their fragrance about me.

E.T.A. Hoffmann, The Devil’s Elixirs (1816)

larmoyante

It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me.

Sylvia Plath (via rosythumbelina)

sisterwolf

The Little Mermaid - Boris Diodorova

"The King gave orders that they should let her sleep quietly till the time came for her to awake."

--Charles Perrault, The Sleeping Beauty in the Woods

"We held hands when we walked down the gingerbread path into the forest, blood dripping from our fingers. We danced with witches and kissed monsters. We turned us into wintergirls, and when she tried to leave, I pulled her back into the snow because I was afraid to be alone."

--Laurie Halse Anderson, Wintergirls