petaltexturedskies
petal-textured skies
𝓛iv, she/her · infp · millennial · europe a dreamy and melancholy softness ଓ
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U2 - U2FANLIFE Noticias - Fotos - Conciertos
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ᴿᴼᵀᵀᴵᴺᴳ 𝙎̵𝙊̵𝙐̵𝙇̵
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i don’t make the rules, my brain does and unfortunately that bitch is chemically imbalanced
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as long as my room has natural light i know everything will be okay
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I am tired of having hands
she said
I want wings —
Louise Glück, from Averno "Blue Rotunda"
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I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
BRIGHT STAR (2009) dir. Jane Campion
(requested by anonymous)
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- the rooms as empty as a moonlit sky; and brilliant with light and sweet with flowers.
Virginia Woolf, in a diary entry dated 2 March 1905 featured in A Passionate Apprentice: The Early Journals 1897-1909
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Virginia Woolf, in a diary entry dated 2 March 1905 featured in A Passionate Apprentice: The Early Journals 1897-1909
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How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.
Virginia Woolf, The Waves
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I’m tired, tired of being enclosed here. I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.
Emily Brontë, from Wuthering Heights
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I want to live only for ecstasy. Small doses, moderate loves, all half-shades, leave me cold. I like extravagance. Letters which give the postman a stiff back to carry, books which overflow from their covers, sexuality which bursts the thermometer.
Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry featured in The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. I 1931-1934
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If by romantic they mean someone who dreams, I am a romantic, but I shall keep it a secret
Anaïs Nin, Linotte: The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1914-1920
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The farther she travelled into unknown places, unfamiliar places, the more precisely she could find within herself a map showing only the cities of the interior.
Anaïs Nin, Seduction of the Minotaur
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Arthur Rimbaud, from Selected Poems & Letters: "The Hands of Jean-Marie"
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I need to emerge from tiny time-stopping moments; I need to exist inside dawn’s light. I need to give in to the presence of everything humble, boundlessly sincere and extraordinarily terrifying.
Virginia Woolf, from A Passionate Apprentice: The Early Journals 1897-1909
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So we all know that Tumblr is US-centric. But to what degree? (and can we skew the results of this poll by posting it at a time where they should be asleep?)
Reblog to increase sample size!
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Emily Brontë, from Wuthering Heights originally published c. 1847
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