❝I’m a writer and, therefore, automatically a suspicious character.❞

Alfred Hitchcock (via coffeeincasablanca)

(via thejazzloftproject)


explore-blog:



Diego:
Nothing compares to your hands, nothing like the green-gold of your eyes. My body is filled with you for days and days. you are the mirror of the night. the violent flash of lightning. the dampness of the earth. The hollow of your armpits is my shelter. my fingers touch your blood. All my joy is to feel life spring from your flower-fountain that mine keeps to fill all the paths of my nerves which are yours.


Frida Kahlo’s passionate handwritten love letters to Diego Rivera.

fleurdulys:

The Library - Rudolf von Alt
1881

❝His arm was around her so tightly that she could hear the beating of his heart.❞

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned  (via c-oquetry)

(via noslumberformyeyelids)


whatsthecatreading:

Reading nooks with views of the hip Shimokitazawa neighbourhood in Tokyo, Japan

A quick hop from Shibuya and Shinjuku, Shimokitazawa is a nice change of pace from the craziness of the big city. We stumbled upon this little shop selling books and curiosities with seating areas where one can take in the scene over a cuppa, and feel safe about burying one’s face in a book and being lost in thoughts.

dream a little dream.: Vladimir Mayakovsky's death note

floriental:

To All of You. That I die – don’t blame anyone for it, and please do not gossip. The deceased terribly dislike this sort of thing. Mother, sisters, comrades, forgive me—this is not a good method (I do not recommend it to others), but there is no other way out for me. Lily -…

absinthemakesyouawhore:

Audrey Hepburn on the terrace of the Hotel Hassler, in Rome, with the telegram announcing her best-actress award, for The Nun’s Story, from the New York Film Critics Circle, 1960.
(via)

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