Eulalie: Original handwriting by Edgar Allan Poe in 1845.

Submitted by our dear friend fer1972

(via mirroir)

(via thatkindofwoman)

I mustn’t look at you too much, or I won’t be able to take my eyes off you at all.

Franz Kafka, from Letters To Felice (via violentwavesofemotion)

autumnleavesofredandgold:

Sheffield Park, Sussex - United Kingdom

(via violentwavesofemotion)

nico-paffgen:

Liquid Light Show, Monterey Pop Festival (1967)

owls-n-elderberries:

untitled by garmonique on Flickr.

(via funeral-wreaths)

(via girlinlondon)

(via journalofanobody)

I’ve begun to feel not gladness, but relief. I can walk without seeing how I look from the back, talk without hearing the way I sound. I go for long periods without saying anything at all. I can be free of words now, I can lapse back into wordlessness, I can sink back into the rhythms of transience as if into bed.

Margaret Atwood, from Cat’s Eye (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via androyd5)

faerybites:

Autumn Fog, 1928

☾☆