the fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in our selves
  • George Brewer, The Witch of Ravensworth (via lucifelle)

    (Source: musicistheart, via thelivingwiccan)

  • "Thou must become familiar with horrors, they must be thy pastime, thy amusement"
  • redheadbouquet:

    liddy’s orange / sharon olds / the new yorker / aug. 2nd 1982

  • Unknown (via jaded-mandarin)

    (via aliform)

  • "I love that sweet smell of decay that surrounds me in forests and woods. A kind of mulchy, deep, rich rot that has no connotation of death or ending, but rather of life and age. A sense of perpetual destruction and rebirth."
  • historyinposters:

    Soviet anti-capitalist poster (1957)

    Text: “Over there only rich have an abundance, but we working on an abundance for everybody”

    (via fuckyeahmarxismleninism)

  • Is it true that they dream?….

    It is true, for the spaces of night surround them with shape and purpose, like a warm hollow below the shoulders, or between the curve of thigh and belly.   
          The land itself can lie like this. Hence our understanding of giants. 
          The wind and the grass cry out to the arms of their sleep as the shore cries out, and buries its face in the bruised sea. 
          We all have heard barns and fences splintering against the dark with a weight that is more than wood. 
          The stars, too, bear witness. We can read their tails and claws as we would read the signs of our own dreams; a knot of sheets, scratches defining the edges of the body, the position of the legs upon waking. 
          The cage and the forest are as helpless in the night as a pair of open hands holding rain. 

    Susan Stewart, from Four Questions Regarding the Dreams of Animals

    http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177486

    September 21 – 1 Notes
    #poetry
    #susan stewart
  • kingjaffejoffer:

    salute a real nigga when you see one

    (via iloveseniorcitizens)