article on new bloomsbury archive. →
modernistwomen: article from the guardian on a new archive of letters by the bloomsbury group, belonging to novelist rosamond lehmann and diarist and writer frances partridge.
predatorywaspobserver asked: Which books by Virginia Woolf have you read? Have you read "Moments of Being"?
Night. Moon. Black leaves. I open the French window wide: Between us other...– Kathleen Raine (1908-2003) (via silver-age) (via yama-bato) (via crashinglybeautiful)
the sound of the waves now distant now close how much of my life remains?– Santoka (via yama-bato) (via crashinglybeautiful)
How little we know of what there is to know. I wish that I were going to live a...– Ernest Hemingway in For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940) (via predatorywaspobserver)
He understood that men were forever strangers to one another, that no one ever...– Thomas Wolfe in Look Homeward, Angel (1929) (via predatorywaspobserver)
‘Yes, I am giving him up.’– Disgrace, by J. M. Coetzee (via the-final-sentence) I love this book so much. Coetzee is a superb writer.
[This soil is bad for certain kinds of flowers. Certain seeds it will not...– The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison (via the-final-sentence)
I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo...– Black Boy, by Richard Wright (via the-final-sentence)
Whate’er the theme, the Maiden sang As if her song could have no...– “The Solitary Reaper” by William Wordsworth (via the-final-sentence)
Thought by Walt Whitman
fuckyeahwhitman: Of obedience, faith, adhesiveness; As I stand aloof and look there is to me something profoundly affecting in large masses of men following the lead of those who do not believe in men.
Happy Deathday Mr. Hughes!
deadwriters: On this day in 1998, English poet Ted Hughes passed away from liver cancer at the age of 68. Hughes was married to acclaimed writer Sylvia Plath but was a well respected poet in his own right who often, in our opinion, gets overlooked. He was a winner of the Whitbread Prize in both 1997 and 1998 for his works Tales from Ovid and Birthday Letters respectively. The...
Death Sets a Thing Significant by Emily Dickinson
Death sets a thing significant The eye had hurried by, Except a perished creature Entreat us tenderly To ponder little workmanships In crayon or in wool, With “This was last her fingers did,” Industrious until The thimble weighed too heavy, The stitches stopped themselves, And then ‘t was put among the dust Upon the closet shelves. A book I have, a friend gave, Whose pencil, here...
I want every word i write to be born, truly born, none to be artificial, every...– Etty Hillesum (via crashinglybeautiful, lrapizo)
I am not easily frightened. Not because I am brave, but because I know that I am...– Etty Hillesum (via jonathn) (via crashinglybeautiful)
The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still, And nothing stirr’d within their...– Darkness by Lord Byron (via the-final-sentence)
Plum // Jeanann Verlee
syllablefingers: I kept him in a birdcage in my closet for months brought him rice and seeds (when I remembered) sometimes water, a sip of warm soda once, as I was pulling tulips from the rose bed, he escaped returned days later in silk lavender, unfurled his smile like a clothesline full of crisp spring bed sheets that night I cut a small incision under my left breast, stuffed two fingers...
Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats →
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: ‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thy happiness,—- That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in...
bookpornographist asked: Have fun in college!
[In a while, one of us will go up to bed and the other will follow.] Then we...– Osso Buco, by Billy Collins (via the-final-sentence)
I do believe it is possible to create, even without ever writing a word or...– Etty Hillesum
Slowly but surely I have been soaking Rilke up these last few months: the man,...– Etty Hillesum
I just started college a few days ago, which means I won’t be able to update this tumblr as much as I have in the past. College is a very overwhelming experience for me because it’s the first time I’ve ever been on my own but it’s going well so far. I just want to let you know what to expect from me in the next few months when it comes to the content of this tumblr....
dreaminglivingoutloud asked: Thanks for posting the link to the Anne Frank tree :-)
Place a leaf on the virtual Anne Frank Tree →
On August 23, 2010 the chestnut tree that Anne Frank wrote about in her diary fell down. In honor of the tree, the Anne Frank House has now created a virtual tree that you can add a leaf to with your name on it.
Letter to a Stranger // Tina Chang
syllablefingers: Dear Father, I drifted on the bouquet of your red tongue for two years. It was a kingdom, the stadium of your face. I took sweets from a sealed jar when mother wasn’t looking. I grew up on the back steps of St. Mary’s where I learned to scream at kitten boys that didn’t do what I said. We took the body and the blood in time. It is possible to be divine in one afternoon. A girl...
For Jane // Charles Bukowski
syllablefingers: 225 days under grass and you know more than I. they have long taken your blood, you are a dry stick in a basket. is this how it works? in this room the hours of love still make shadows. when you left you took almost everything. I kneel in the nights before tigers that will not let me be. what you were will not happen again. the tigers have found me and I do not care. (via...
letsdisco asked: i noticed you list eudora welty as one of your favorite authors - i just read "a piece of news" a few days ago for one of my classes and was pretty intrigued by it. i haven't read anything else of hers yet, but i would like to. what do you recommend?
[I’ll never die.] I’m skimming across the surface of my own history, moving...– The Things They Carried, by Tim O’ Brien (via the-final-sentence)
It often happens to me know that when I lie down for sleep at night instead of...– Katherine Mansfield (Notebooks) (via katherine-mansfield)
Death, whoever and whatever you are, tallest king of tall kings, grant me these...– Mary Oliver (via awakeinthedream)
In your rocking-chair, by your window dreaming, shall you long, alone. In your...– Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser (via the-final-sentence)
There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been...– On the Origin of Species by Charles Darwin (via the-final-sentence)
Tragedy in the Wild →
wordpainting: On Tuesday, the Associated Press reported that a twenty-nine-year-old Swiss woman named Claire Jane Ackermann drowned on Saturday while attempting to cross the Teklanika River, near Denali National Park in central Alaska. This tragic story might not have been picked up outside of Alaska, except for the A.P.’s report that Ackermann, along with a male companion who survived, was...
Not a leaf stirred, the grasshoppers chirruped, and the monotonous hollow roar...– Anton Chekhov, from The Lady with the Little Dog (via suspiria-de-profundis) (via dinkenesh)