artpure

[artpure]

“I can sit alone by an open window for hours if I like, and hear only bird songs, and the rustle of leaves. The trees are pure gold and orange,”

— Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Violet Dickinson wr. c. October 1904

[artpure]

Modèles de Marcelle Demay (1913), B Berty

#art #1900s #fashion illustrations #french #early 1900s

[artpure]

Madame Monet Embroidering (1875), Claude Monet

#art #claude monet #impressionism #french impressionism #1800s #late 1800s #1875

[artpure]

I love you, I move carefully so as not to break you, as you ring out inside me – so crystal-like, so entrancingly…

Vladmir Nabokov

August 17, 1924

#quotes #words #love #vladmir nabokov

[artpure]

The moon rose over the bay. I had a lot of feelings.

I am taken with the hot animal of my skin, grateful to swing my limbs

and have them move as I intend, though my knee, though my shoulder, though something is torn or tearing. Today, a dozen squid, dead

on the harbor beach: one mostly buried, one with skin empty as a shell and hollow

feeling, and, though the tentacles look soft, I do not touch them. I imagine they were startled to find themselves in the sun.

I imagine the tide simply went out without them. I imagine they cannot

feel the black flies charting the raised hills of their eyes. I write my name in the sand: Donika Kelly. I watch eighteen seagulls

skim the sandbar and lift low in the sky. I pick up a pebble that looks like a green egg.

To the ditch lily I say I am in love. To the Jeep parked haphazardly on the narrow street I am in love. To the roses, white

petals rimmed brown, to the yellow lined pavement, to the house trimmed in gold I am

in love. I shout with the rough calculus of walking. Just let me find my way back, let me move like a tide come in.

Donika Kelly

[artpure]

Mêng Chu, Spring Song, tr, by Kenneth Rexroth and Ling Chung

[artpure]

We do not know why, when we think of them, we feel all of a sudden that the earth is good and that it is not a burden to live.

Anthem, Ayn Rand

#literature #quotes #words #love #ayn rand

[artpure]

And now I'm writing to you, my Mothling. How are your wings and antennae, and all their little spots and their silky fluff?

Vladmir Nabokov

June 27, 1926

#quotes #words #love #vladmir nabokov

[artpure]

[artpure]

“The air is silver and pearl, for the night is liquid with moonlight.”

— Amy Lowell, from Sword Blades and Poppy Seeds; The Basket.