Cou Cou Baby
I wonder why I don’t go to bed and go to sleep. But then it would be tomorrow, so I decide that no matter how tired, no matter how incoherent I am, I can skip on hour more of sleep and live.
Sylvia Plath (via observando)
colin-vian:

  Modigliani, nudo seduto (1916)

colin-vian:

  Modigliani, nudo seduto (1916)

You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via letteratura-litterature)
starbuckssaddict:

Woodstock festival

starbuckssaddict:

Woodstock festival

To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it’s about, but the music the words make.
Truman Capote; Truman Capote: Conversations (via wordpainting)
Sometimes a person’s hands
are the only words he knows.
Bronwen Wallace, from: “Woman at the Next” (via learningfromthehands)
At the temple there is a poem called “Loss” carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.
Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha (via letteratura-litterature)
kateoplis:

“It is a two-way traffic, the language of the unsaid.”
Anne Carson
art: Christine Muraton

kateoplis:

“It is a two-way traffic, the language of the unsaid.”

Anne Carson

art: Christine Muraton

howitzerliterarysociety:

Seeing sketches and prep work of a famous artist is always good because it crumbles the popular conception of inspiration. To see Michelangelo screaming at a charcoal drawing because he can’t get god’s face right, would be the most positive thing in the world for the struggling artist.