theparisreview:

T. S. Eliot’s illustrated letters. (via)

(via evoketheforms)

hermionekatnissclarytris:

But why do we call it Greek MYTHOLOGY and Hindu MYTHOLOGY? I have nothing against Christianity but no one calls that Christian Mythology or Islam Middle Eastern Mythology. How do you know that the Greek stories and Hindu stories are myths? How do you know that they are not real? They can be just as real as 

UMMM probably because that’s what the ancient Greeks called it.

(via byronofrochdale)

"But if these years have taught me anything it is this: you can never run away. Not ever. The only way out is in."

Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (via adderalldust)

(Source: quotes-shape-us, via lifeinpoetry)

artinparsi:

Two Herons with Ducks - Unknown Artist, Iran, (1300 - 1400) The Museum of Islamic Art Qatar

artinparsi:

Two Herons with Ducks - Unknown Artist, Iran, (1300 - 1400) The Museum of Islamic Art Qatar

(via intraoculus)

teenagelobatomy:

mármol

por Juan Pablo Tavera

(via intraoculus)

art-history:


René MagritteBelgian, 1898-1967
The Banquet, 1958
Oil on canvas 38¼ x 51¼ in. (97.3 130.3 cm)
Art Institute of ChicagoChicago, Illinois, USA
© 2014 C. Herscovici, London / Artist Rights Society (ARS), New York

art-history:

René Magritte
Belgian, 1898-1967

The Banquet, 1958

Oil on canvas
38¼ x 51¼ in. (97.3 130.3 cm)

Art Institute of Chicago
Chicago, Illinois, USA

© 2014 C. Herscovici, London / Artist Rights Society (ARS), New York

(via seven-middagh)

gwranda:

Railway travel poster, 1933.

gwranda:

Railway travel poster, 1933.

littleleahlamb2k14:

grubsludge:

bury me in armor so I’ll be ready for the skeleton war

image

ready

(via steppauseturnpausepivotstepstep)

"I am trying to see things in perspective. My dog wants a bite of my peanut butter chocolate chip bagel. I know she cannot have this, because chocolate makes dogs very sick. My dog does not understand this. She pouts and wraps herself around my leg like a scarf and purrs and tries to convince me to give her just a tiny bit. When I do not give in, she eventually gives up and lays in the corner, under the piano, drooping and sad. I hope the universe has my best interest in mind like I have my dog’s. When I want something with my whole being, and the universe withholds it from me, I hope the universe thinks to herself: "Silly girl. She thinks this is what she wants, but she does not understand how it will hurt."

THEORIES ABOUT THE UNIVERSE by Blythe Baird (via theflowershop)

Woah

(via foreverrwanderlust)

(Source: blythebrooklyn, via avneutrois)

animus-inviolabilis:

Purgatorio XXX -The Earthly Paradise: Beatrice in the Chariot of the Church
Sandro Botticelli
1480s

animus-inviolabilis:

Purgatorio XXX -The Earthly Paradise: Beatrice in the Chariot of the Church

Sandro Botticelli

1480s

(via theladyintweed)

300 FAVORITE MOVIES (in no particular order)

214. The History Boys (2006)

"Reckless, impulsive, immoral — how come there’s such a difference between the way you teach and the way you live? Why are you so bold in argument and talking, but when it comes to the point, when it’s something that’s actually happening — I mean, now you’re so fucking careful!"

(via fuckyeahthehistoryboys)

blastedheath:

Wayne Thiebaud (American, b. 1920), Night Farm, 1993. Etching, drypoint, and aquatint in black on wove paper, Image: 556 x 403 mm. Sheet: 781 x 616 mm. Numbered in 2/35.

blastedheath:

Wayne Thiebaud (American, b. 1920), Night Farm, 1993. Etching, drypoint, and aquatint in black on wove paper, Image: 556 x 403 mm. Sheet: 781 x 616 mm. Numbered in 2/35.

(via seven-middagh)

hornetaur:

She had curves in all the wrong places - some of them cast a 3-dimensional shadows, still others hummed a low, discordant note as they flitted about like flies. She was nothing like other girls - she was an abomination from the 6th plane of torment

(via serazienne)

(Source: thewonderofafairytale, via roseandfig)

"Gradually, but deliberately…I have made myself into a machine. I have done it deliberately—in order to endure, in order not to feel. I have deliberately killed my senses—I have deliberately died […]"

T.S. Eliot, from Selected Letters (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via lifeinpoetry)