seikilos-stele:

Ursula K. Le Guin

petaltexturedskies:

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vanessa Bell written c. August 1908

typodescript:

roadmotel:

Franz Wright, The New Jerusalem

[text: Rilke in one of his letter said Christ / is a painting, / a finger pointing / at something, and we are like dogs / who keep barking and lunging / at the hand.]

onetwofeb:

Faith is not a question of the existence or non-existence of God. It is believing that love without reward is valuable.

Levinas, interviewed in 1986

metamorphesque:

ALT

— Sylvia Plath, “Years”

89words:

“A little darkness, in itself, at the time, is nothing. You think no more about it and you go on. But I know what darkness is, it accumulates, thickens, then suddenly bursts and drowns everything.”

— Samuel Beckett

luthienne:

ALT

Tony Hoagland, from Application for Release from the Dream; “The Complex Sentence”

petaltexturedskies:

Remember the days of our first happiness, how strong we were, how dazed by passion, lying all day, then all night in the narrow bed, sleeping there, eating there too: it was summer, it seemed everything had ripened at once. And so hot we lay completely uncovered.

Louise Glück, Summer

metamorphesque:

ALT

— Mary Oliver, The Pond

catsofyore:

ALT

Lavinia Dickinson (sister of Emily) with cat. Her smile is radiant! 💗 1896. Source.

flowerytale:

Ilya Kaminsky, from “Musica Humana”, Dancing in Odessa: Poems

metamorphesque:

ALT

— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

per-asperaa-ad-astra:

When a physicist falls in love :)

Richard Feynman’s love letter to his deceased wife, 1946.

metamorphesque:

ALT

— Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things: A Novel