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'The Origin of the Harp of Elfin' (c. 1890), Henry Jones Thaddeus (Irish, 1859-1929)

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It's gonna work out. It's gonna work out. It's gonna work out.

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Marilyn Monroe in her room at the Beverly Carlton Hotel, 1951. Photo by Phil Burchman.

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Postcolonial Love Poem, ‘Wolf OR-7′ by Natalie Diaz

[ID: I confuse instinct for desire - isn’t bite also touch?]

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Marilyn Monroe reading “Leaves of Grass” by Walt Whitman in Los Angeles, 1951. Photo by David Cicero.

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“How lovely it is that there are words and sounds! Are not words and sounds rainbows and illusive bridges between things which are eternally apart? . . . Speaking is a beautiful folly.”

Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Friedrich Nietzsche

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Agapit Stevens      La Danse du Serpent

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𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖚𝖒 | iridessence photography + gold frame photography

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Edward Hopper's sketchbook

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“I am not actually tired, but numb and heavy, and can’t find the right words.”

— Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer, c. November 1912

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– Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[text ID: Someday, god knows when, I will stop this absurd, self-pitying, idle, futile despair.]

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Chelsea Hodson // Saeed Jones

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“Melancholy ... is the character of mortality.”

The Anatomy of Melancholy

Robert Burton

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“My flesh looked like it wasn’t trying. It looked like it hated being part of me.”

— Charles Bukowski, Pulp

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― Anne Carson, Eros the Bittersweet

[text ID: To be running breathlessly, but not yet arrived, is itself delightful, a suspended moment of living hope.]

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— Elena Ferrante, The Story of a New Name

[text ID: I gave in continuously, with painful pleasure, to waves of unhappiness.]