Spent the afternoon reading and translating some french documents from the 1800s ✍
Her eyes were no violet, after all- they were amber. They were the color of candied ginger or a slice of cinnamon cake. Faded paper, polished leather, a brandied apricot. Orange-peel tea. I considered them, imagining the letters I would write to her. Pipe tobacco, perhaps. A honey lozenge, an autumn leaf.
— Timothy Schaffert, The Swan Gondola (via cinnamonhotel)
Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni (1475-1564)
The Eyes of the Renaissance - David
“I was born under a bad moon. My grief is that I have one grief which outweighs all the joy there is.”— Miguel Hernández, from Selected Poems; “I Have Lots of Heart,”
Oh, Vincent Willem van Gogh.
He was happy when he was drawing, but he doubted his abilities.
“If I lived by the sea I would never be really sad. I get an immense sense of eternity and peace from the ocean. I can lose myself in staring at it hour after hour.”— Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Aurelia Plath written c. July 1951
