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"Sé que mientras viva nada me justifica porque yo misma me lo impido."
Wisława Szymborska






“(…) Ya el dolor
se marchitó como una larga flor
 
cuya sabiduría al fin te sana
al disolverse porque se convierte
en polvo, en ilusión, en otra suerte”

Silvina Ocampo (via villings)

(via purpurea)



nevver:

The Chinese Obelisks, Edward Gorey’s Elephant House

(via robson-alkmim)

queridodiccionario:

2. m. Encadenamiento de los sucesos considerado como necesario y fatal.






likeafieldmouse:

Auguste Rodin’s Erotic Watercolors

(via ordinarysorrow)



artdetails:

Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux, Ugolino and His Sons (details), 1865-1867

(Source: metmuseum.org)


poboh:

Autumn, 1905, Evgeny Capital. Russian (1870 - 1929)

poboh:

Autumn, 1905, Evgeny Capital. Russian (1870 - 1929)




“Nobody understands another’s sorrow, and nobody another’s joy.”

Franz Schubert (via infamoussayings)

(Source: infamoussayings,tumblr.com, via rendan)



La lectura es a la vez la construcción de un universo y un refugio frente a la hostilidad del mundo.
Ricardo Piglia. El último lector
Foto: Niño leyendo en una librería destruida durante un bombardeo en Londres en 1940

La lectura es a la vez la construcción de un universo y un refugio frente a la hostilidad del mundo.

Ricardo Piglia. El último lector

Foto: Niño leyendo en una librería destruida durante un bombardeo en Londres en 1940

(Source: catacombes, via fragmentosnomadas)



lumpy-pudding:

Rainer Maria Rilke: Lament Everything is far and long gone by. I think that the star glittering above me has been dead for a million years. I think there were tears in the car I heard pass and something terrible was said. A clock has stopped striking in the house across the road… When did it start?… I would like to step out of my heart and go walking beneath the enormous sky. I would like to pray. And surely of all the stars that perished long ago, one still exists. I think that I know which one it is – which one, at the end of its beam in the sky, stands like a white city…
(trans. Stephen Mitchell)

lumpy-pudding:

Rainer Maria Rilke: Lament

Everything is far
and long gone by.
I think that the star
glittering above me
has been dead for a million years.
I think there were tears
in the car I heard pass
and something terrible was said.
A clock has stopped striking in the house
across the road…
When did it start?…
I would like to step out of my heart
and go walking beneath the enormous sky.
I would like to pray.
And surely of all the stars that perished
long ago,
one still exists.
I think that I know
which one it is –
which one, at the end of its beam in the sky,
stands like a white city…

(trans. Stephen Mitchell)




(Source: fantastiquereveriespassions, via sereinmortal)



“It’s so nice
to wake up in the morning
all alone
and not have to tell somebody
you love them
when you don’t love them
any more.”

Richard Brautigan, Love Poem (via theunquotables)


poboh:

A shepherd tending his flock, Heinrich Johann Zugel. Germany (1850 - 1941)

poboh:

A shepherd tending his flock, Heinrich Johann Zugel. Germany (1850 - 1941)




“I’m doing badly, I’m doing well, whichever you prefer.”

Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena  (via synaloepha)

(Source: kafkaesque-world, via synaloepha)



awritersruminations:

Irena Klepfisz, from “Bashert"  

(thank you Michael Hafftka)


les-amis-d-alain-delon

les-amis-d-alain-delon

(via in-circles)