tangible

dreams made flesh.

For us there is no sin so great as despair, and perhaps no virtue so vital as courage.

- Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness

(Source: thetimesinbetween, via fuckyeahlesbianliterature)

« A questa domanda, da ragazzi, i miei amici davano sempre la stessa risposta: “La fessa”. Io, invece, rispondevo: “L’odore delle case dei vecchi”. La domanda era: “Che cosa ti piace di più veramente nella vita?”.

La grande bellezza

(Source: bovarismocronico)

Like water, the trip plans have slipped through my fingers leaving nothing but that cool chill.  Next time, next year, next chance. When timing is right. Plan B for now.  Spin me round, Europe. Where does the arrow land?

Like water, the trip plans have slipped through my fingers leaving nothing but that cool chill.  Next time, next year, next chance. When timing is right. Plan B for now.  Spin me round, Europe. Where does the arrow land?

(Source: sabonhomeblog, via cranberriesinmyhead)

I want to be like water. I want to slip through fingers, but hold up a ship.

Michelle Williams

(Source: psych-facts, via vasta)


Children work in an opium field in Badakhshan, which is Afghanistan’s largest producer of opium, Northern Afghanistan, 1992

Children work in an opium field in Badakhshan, which is Afghanistan’s largest producer of opium, Northern Afghanistan, 1992

(Source: afghany, via leprintemps)

Come take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

Born to Die (Lana Del Rey)

(Source: fallingslowlyinthefall)

And if all that is meaningless, I want to be cured
Of a craving for something I cannot find
And of the shame of never finding it.

T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party

(Source: stxxz.us, via plornamban)

My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers
of my palms tell me so.
Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish
at the same time. I think

praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think
staying up and waiting
for paintings to sigh is science. In another dimension this
is exactly what’s happening,

it’s what they write grants about: the chromodynamics
of mournful Whistlers,
the audible sorrow and beta decay of Old Battersea Bridge.
I like the idea of different

theres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass,
a Bronx where people talk
like violets smell. Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehow
kind, perhaps in the nook

of a cousin universe I’ve never defiled or betrayed
anyone. Here I have
two hands and they are vanishing, the hollow of your back
to rest my cheek against,

your voice and little else but my assiduous fear to cherish.
My hands are webbed
like the wind-torn work of a spider, like they squeezed
something in the womb

but couldn’t hang on. One of those other worlds
or a life I felt
passing through mine, or the ocean inside my mother’s belly
she had to scream out.

Here, when I say I never want to be without you,
somewhere else I am saying
I never want to be without you again. And when I touch you
in each of the places we meet,

in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying
and resurrected.
When I don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life,
in each place and forever.

Bob Hicok, “Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem”

(Source: hiddenshores, via goghst)

John Vassos, portable aluminum phonograph RCA Victor Special, 1937.
RCA Manufacturing Company, USA. Via Wolfsonian

John Vassos, portable aluminum phonograph
RCA Victor Special, 1937
.

RCA Manufacturing Company, USA. Via Wolfsonian

(via danaville)

In the end, what really matters? Only kindness. Only making somebody a little happier for your presence.

Nancy Horan, Under the Wide and Starry Sky  

(Source: quoted-books, via paintdeath)

Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.

Kurt Vonnegut 

(Source: onlinecounsellingcollege, via carriecutforth)