happyheidi:

Spirit of the Night, by John Atkinson Grimshaw (1836-1893)

beguines:

Oh Lord, my grief is like a / river inside me; filled / with dead things I didn’t / kill.

Pádraig Ó Tuama, from “Jesus Texts”, When Did We See You Naked?: Jesus as a Victim of Sexual Abuse, ed. Jayme R. Reaves, David Tombs, and Rocío Figueroa

cithaerons:

“November is a hinge in the year, and the door gets opened to ghosts.”

— Nina MacLaughlin, from “On the First of November, the Ghosts Arrive”, The Paris Review
(via voirlvmer)

academia-core:

painting murals in an abandoned villa in tuscany, italy

caroldanversenthusiast:

these may be the fruitiest photos of dakota johnson and jessie buckley

lostlibrarycard:

Euripides, Herakles, tr. by Anne Carson

lesbianrey:

kinda feels like we’re dealing with the major ramifications of feminism being digested via enamel pins and tshirts with fun 70s throwback vibes and not as a serious critical framework to reshape our society

caroldanversenthusiast:

oh… dakota johnson