❝i want to write a novel about silence. the things people don’t say.❞ — virginia woolf.

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❝i want to write a novel about silence. the things people don’t say.❞ — virginia woolf.
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“The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms, it has its tides and in its depths it has its pearls too.”
━ Vincent van Gogh, The Letters of Vincent van Gogh
La Nymphée by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1878.
The dead wander the lanes of the next life like strangers lost in Venice.
Hilary Mantel, The mirror and the light
“I am drunk with so many roses / Redder than wine. […] / I drink their sigh briefly, I breathe with their life,”
— Renée Vivien, from “Flambeaux éteints; Les Roses sont entrées”, published. c. 1907.
Modesty - Antonio Corradini, 1752
Nicolás de Tolentino (detail) by Juan Pantoja de la Cruz, 1601.
Photo by Sarah Crutchfield
Karlovy Vary, Czech Republic.
Photo by Dani Kioko
London, United Kingdom. © ig: urbanxkoi
Ph. Anna Rosa Krau
I am my own enemy, I am my own murderer! My own murderer, that is what I am!
Fyodor Dostoevsky, from Selected Prose; “The Double,” (via violentwavesofemotion)