reverie

petaltexturedskies:

Is there another life? Shall I awake and find all this a dream? There must be, we cannot be created for this sort of suffering.

John Keats, from a letter to Charles Brown, dated September 28, 1820

firstfullmoon:

poetry truly is the most painful & lifesaving of all art forms. like open-heart surgery

(via antigonies)

flowerytale:

D. H. Lawrence, from Lady Chatterley’s Lover

(via megairea)

edwardian-girl-next-door:

“Summer is growing old and everything is flowing into a single melancholy murmur”

~ Tomas Tranströmer, from “The Cuckoo”

(via megairea)

tamsoj:

Charles Bukowski, Factotum

(via megairea)

metaphorformetaphor:

Could it think, the heart would stop beating.

Fernando Pessoa, from The Book of Disquiet (Penguin Classics, 2022; first published 1982)

nobrashfestivity:

Osamu Shiihara

Construction of Hand, 1932

(via amigoleva)

random-brushstrokes:

John Sloan - Green’s Cats (1900)

(via amigoleva)

cryism:

Dans la ville blanche, directed by Alain Tanner

(via ham00z)

memoryslandscape:

“How shall we find our way in- to this moment which stands between us and a remembered future?”

— Karl Kirchwey, from “Roman Park, Noon,” At the Palace of Jove: Poems (G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2002)

(via aechlii)

sorrrowfull:

(via ham00z)

ancientsstudies:

Far far away, no voices sounding, no one around me.

ig credit: judiannegrace.

(Source: instagram.com, via clairdelune1)