Sappho, from If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho; tr. by Anne Carson

“It was odd, she thought, how if one was alone, one leant to things, inanimate things; trees, streams, flowers; felt they expressed one; felt they became one; felt they knew one, in a sense were one…there curled up off the floor of the mind, rose from the lake of one’s being, a mist, a bride to meet her lover.”

- “To The Lighthouse”, by Virginia Woolf

Silverdale, Washington by The Roving Hayseed

love changes you

When a hug and a sniff make the perfect blend of cuteness! 🌼🐿️ By @dickvanduijn

the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.

vintage postcards from the 20s