“As usual, I was thinking about the moments of the past, letting my memory rush over them like water rushing over the stones on the bottom of a stream. I was even thinking a little about the future, that place where people are doing a dance we cannot imagine, a dance whose name we can only guess.”
—Billy Collins, from “Nostalgia” in Questions about Angels (University of Pittsburg Press, 1991)
(Source: proustitute, via apoetreflects)
So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my loneliness, in the blue-silver of the cold moon, shining brilliantly on the drifts of fresh-fallen snow, with the myriad sparkles. I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepting my being. And does not smite me down. — Sylvia Plath, Cambridge Notes. (via torturegardens)
(Source: theburnthatkeepseverything, via insipidexpectations)
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.
arw126kc135 asked: You have a very nice Blog, thank you for your hard work * Michael
How kind. Thank you very much for the sweet note.
Have a great day and best wishes,
Conservation of Hagia Sophia mosaics, Istanbul, 1931-1964. Study of Light.
Alternate Title: Conservation of Ayia Sofia mosaics, Istanbul, 1931-1964. Study of Light.
reblog if you are actually a ghost from the 1800’s that is blogging from beyond the grave
…I have died out of the human world and come to feel a strange, cold, aqueous, terraqueous, aerial, ethereal sympathy and existence. I sow the sun and moon for seeds. — Ralph Waldo Emerson (via gypsji)
(Source: elopse, via ghost-lilies)
Godfrey Frankel (1912-1995): 3rd Avenue Elevated Window, 1947
(Source: varietas, via ghost-lilies)