Charles Robinson , 1906
Another morning and I wake with thirst for the goodness I do not have. I walk out to the pond and all the way God has given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord, I was never a quick scholar but sulked and hunched over my books past the hour and the bell; grant me, in your mercy, a little more time. Love for the earth and love for you are having such a long conversation in my heart. Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowly learning.
Mary Oliver, Thirst. And the river flows… (via crashinglybeautiful)
I love you: body shared, undivided. Neither you nor I severed. There is no need for blood shed between us. No need for a wound to remind us that blood exists. It flows within us, from us. Blood is familiar, close.
Luce Irigaray, When Our Lips Speak Together (via frenchtwist)
Mermaid! A.M. Hopfmuller, 1920s
(Source: voodoovoodoo)
Tally ho! Tally ho! a new hunter; first then, Tally ho! Tally ho!
Henry Alken, from Memoirs of the life of the late John Mytton, esq., by Nimrod (Charles James Apperley), London, 1900.
(Source: archive.org)
There is poetry as soon as we realize that we possess nothing.
John Cage (via artemisdreaming)(via mainstones)
Wassily Kandinsky, Murnau - Coastline II, 1908 (bofransson)
(Source: voodoovoodoo)
