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sylvia plath feeding blueberries to a deer

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I have never meant enough to anyone to be worth keeping.

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Fantasia (1940)

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tiredmaid / instagram ps: this is an edit created by me, not a real anime/manga.

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Audrey Hepburn with her pet deer, Ip.

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Rainer Maria Rilke, Book of Hours: Love Poems to God; from ‘Ich war bei den ältesten Mönchen, den Malern und Mythenmeldern’, tr. Anita Barrows & Joanna Macy

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“I burned so long so quiet you must have wondered if I loved you back. I did, I did, I do.”

— Annelyse Gelman, from “The Pillowcase” in Everyone I Love is a Stranger to Someone

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I must change my life so that I can live it, not wait for it.

— Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1964

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Antigone, Jean Anouilh tr. Lewis Galantière

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“I do not know myself sometimes, or how to measure and name and count out the grains that make me what I am.”

— Virginia Woolf, The Waves

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concept: me, lying in a field of many, many flowers. daisies grow through the cracks in my body. i’ll be okay

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E.E. Cummings, from “since feeling is first”; Collected Poems: 1904-1962

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F. Scott Fitzgerald reads an edited and abridged version of “Ode to a Nightingale” circa 1940.

“Ode to a Nightingale” (1819) - 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 thine happiness,     That thou, light-wingèd Dryad of the trees,           In some melodious plot   Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,     Singest of summer in full-throated ease. O for a draught of vintage! that hath been   Cool’d a long age in the deep-delvèd earth, Tasting of Flora and the country-green,   Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South!   Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,     With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,           And purple-stainèd mouth;   That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,     And with thee fade away into the forest dim: Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget   What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret   Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs,   Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies     Where but to think is to be full of sorrow           And leaden-eyed despairs;   Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,     Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

[…]

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“Your loneliness is precious to you, I know. Does it disturb you to know you are dear to me? Do not let it. It is such a quiet feeling. It is like the light coming into a room—moonlight—”

— Katherine Mansfield, in a letter to J.M. Murry, dated December 14, 1919, Letters and Journals of Katherine Mansfield (Penguin Classics, 1977)(via luthienne)

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cozy wing factory