Forest interior by moonlight
— Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840)
(via magicisvitam)
Forest interior by moonlight
— Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840)
(via magicisvitam)
(Source: ealylo, via vvitchoftheloch)
Albert Camus, The Fall
[ Text ID: But the heart has its own memory / and I have forgotten nothing. ]
(via argonavta)
Kostas Karyotakis, tr. by Kimon Friar, from Modern Greek Poetry; “Athens,”
(via oldancientnuit)
Left to right
Amor Sacro e Amor Profano, Giovanni Baglione
Amor Vincit Omnia, Caravaggio
(via darkhoneyyy)
Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) dir. Francis Ford Coppola
We Draculs have a right to be proud. What devil or witch was ever so great as Attila whose blood flows in these veins? Blood…is too precious a thing in these times. The warlike days are over. The victories of my great race are but a tale to be told. I am the last of my kind.
“anxious for solitude, bitten by a virulent rancour against the world”— Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude
& she wanted to be unforgettable
she wanted to be a memory
a wound to every man
arragant enough to want her— Ntozake Shange, from For colored girls who have considered suicide/When the rainbow is enuf
(via enamored4)
(via scarletarosa)
“Have you ever truly idolized a woman? Nothing can be obscene in such love. Everything that occurs in between it becomes a sacrament.”
Bitter moon (1992) by Roman Polanski