Pays Basque, France
(via)
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Virginia Woolf, The Waves
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“I drink. Warm lips, throat. I close my eyes. I am not Virginia Woolf. But there is a line of hers that keeps me well: Arrange whatever pieces come your way.”
— Lidia Yuknavitch, The Chronology of Water: A Memoir (Hawthorne Books, April 1, 2011)
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DANCE OF THE NYMPHS - PAUL DÉSIRÉ TROUILLEBERT (detail)
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Yves Olade, from Bloodsport; “When rome falls”
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Jan Van Der Kooi, Bedroom Window, 2010
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Reginald Dwayne Betts “BALLAD OF THE GROUNDHOG”
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james longenbach / wendy cope / jon kabat-zinn
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Details of Portraits by Franz Xaver Winterhalter
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Mary Oliver, ‘north country’
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writing my kafka diary like Jan. 12th: Shower was cold. Hell on earth. Soup for dinner.
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New Forest, Hampshire, England by Stu Meech
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“I’m a dryad living in an old pine, or a little brown wood-elf hiding under a crinkled leaf. That white birch you caught me kissing is a sister of mine. The only difference is, she’s a tree and I’m a girl, but that’s no real difference.”
— L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea (via oiseauperdu)
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every so often i remember this poem by langston hughes & am inconsolable
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Trail in the Snow
Gustaf Fjæstad - 1927
Private collection
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