1. paulsrockinpagoda:

noswellicus:

Yesssss

nooooooooooooo

    paulsrockinpagoda:

    noswellicus:

    Yesssss

    nooooooooooooo

    Reblogged from: harmonicakind
  2. Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor,
    for the eternal idleness of the imagined return…
    Derek Walcott, from "Bleecker Street, Summer" (via weissewiese)
    Reblogged from: weissewiese
  3. songsforscrolling:

    Thievery Corporation, A Gentle Dissolve

    Reblogged from: lalaladylove
  4. killthecurator:

Cy Twombly

    killthecurator:

    Cy Twombly

    Reblogged from: purpleshirt
  5. at least, it’s what you most expected,
    these graves bloom and devour my sight:
    the kingdom ethereal and material;
    the witching year.
    the world behind the world.
    alone you’ll arrive and together we leave,
    we pour ourselves a glass we cannot bear to drink.
    we slide into the world incredible,
    where air runs thicker than blood,
    we embalm our ritual eyes,
    that sink quicker than stones,
    and cry in the winter, beating our chests,
    “i am false, i am false”.
    but O, what can we say we know,
    instead of dying young, let us stay forever old.
    The Great Disguise - a.c. (via writeontheirhearts)
    Reblogged from: myownoceans
  6. lonequixote:

Etretat, Cliff of d`Aval, Sunset ~ Claude Monet

    lonequixote:

    Etretat, Cliff of d`Aval, Sunset ~ Claude Monet

    Reblogged from: theartgeeks
  7. jamesjourneys:

[HT: Grammarly]
    Reblogged from: jamesjourneys
  8. humansofnewyork:

"My happiest moments were when my mom was still alive.""What’s your fondest memory of your mother?""One time when I was six years old, we went to pick up my father at the airport. On the way, my mother explained to me the concept of boarding a plane and taking a trip. And then while we waited for my father, we sat in a nearby restaurant, and we planned out all the imaginary trips that I wanted to go on."
(Nairobi, Kenya)

    humansofnewyork:

    "My happiest moments were when my mom was still alive."
    "What’s your fondest memory of your mother?"
    "One time when I was six years old, we went to pick up my father at the airport. On the way, my mother explained to me the concept of boarding a plane and taking a trip. And then while we waited for my father, we sat in a nearby restaurant, and we planned out all the imaginary trips that I wanted to go on."

    (Nairobi, Kenya)

    Reblogged from: humansofnewyork
  9. itscolossal:

    By the Silent Line: Photographer Pierre Folk Spends Years Documenting a Vanishing 160-Year-Old Parisian Railway

    Reblogged from: farewell-kingdom
  10. nevver:

    The Shape of Ideas

    Reblogged from: nevver
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