No matter how educated, talented, rich or cool you believe you are, how you treat people ultimately tells all. (via schnapsliebe)
Tag Archives: poetic
Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor… Derek Walcott, ‘Bleecker Street, Summer’ (via lesgardenias)
A woman’s perfume tells more about her than her handwriting. Christian Dior (via lesgardenias)
As for myself, I am more like the solar machine; completely static in the dark—and dark and light interchange like day and night in me. Jim Herlihy, from a letter to Anaïs Nin (via violentwavesofemotion)
As a child she was described as having the eyes of a half-tamed creature, being drawn to the unnatural, with a penchant for improvising tempestuous fairy stories. Patti Smith, in her Introduction to Wuthering Heights (via henrydear)
I am terrified by this dark thing That sleeps in me ; All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. Sylvia Plath, excerpt of Elm (via henrydear)
In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality. Franz Kafka to Milena (via man-of-prose)
adorleehaze: thecellophaneflower: adorleehaze: Please help I’m squeezing my eyes tightly shut and sending you lustrous golden vibes and an ivory-flower scented embrace. Je t’adore.
adorleehaze: “so I foreglimpsed her; a velvet hair ribbon was still clutched in her hand; her honey-brown body, with the white negative image of a rudimentary swimsuit patterned against her tan…” –Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita