1 month ago reblogged from candority
717 plays

(Françoise Hardy - Le temps de l’amour)

Quando sono particolarmente triste, io ascolto canzoni francesi.


lovingsylvia:

Sylvia and Ted “interrupted in a spat,” Chalot Square, London, July 25, 1960 photographed by Hans Beacham for a portfolio of images of British writers

"They were sullen. Hughes was rude. He was going to get more attention than she, and she didn’t like that while he did. He invited me outside and told me I needed to know that he loathed photographers". Hughes particularly wanted to keep Plath out of the way. "His wish, of course, forced me to photograph them together", Beacham said; and later; Hughes acknowledged that he had been "an ogre."

—Diane Middlebrook, Her Husband: Hughes and Plath-a Marriage, 2003

1 month ago reblogged from lifeinpoetry
1 month ago reblogged from senojimasena
Go big or go home.
Have you ever had that feeling? That you’d like to go to a whole different place and become a whole different self? Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (via sinisteria)

(Source: itisallbrokennow)

If flowers can
teach themselves
how to bloom after
winter passes,
so can you.
Unknown (via 13thmoon)

(Source: aestheticintrovert)

2 months ago reblogged from juliesad
annyskod:

Waiting for Godot - S.Beckett.

annyskod:

Waiting for Godot - S.Beckett.

Lotti coi sogni come con la vita senza senso né forma, cercando un disegno, un percorso che deve pur esserci, come quando si comincia a leggere un libro e non si sa ancora in quale direzione ti porterà. Quello che vorresti è l’aprirsi d’uno spazio e d’un tempo astratti e assoluti in cui muoverti seguendo una traiettoria esatta e tesa; ma quando ti sembra di riuscirci t’accorgi d’essere fermo, bloccato, costretto a ripetere tutto da capo. Italo Calvino - Se una notte d’inverno un viaggiatore

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