(Source: l-uminus, via afuneralinmybrain)

(via dollynymph)

George Catlin, Medicine Man, Performing His Mysteries over a Dying Man, 1832

George Catlin, Medicine Man, Performing His Mysteries over a Dying Man, 1832

(Source: cavetocanvas)

(Source: sickporn, via babv)

… sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, the next a star.
Rainer Maria Rilke, from “Sunset” in Selected Poems, trans. Robert Bly (via proustitute)

Shooting Star

(Source: snowonfriday, via mellifluis)

Vladimir Nabokov and butterfly, Carl Mydans, 1958

Vladimir Nabokov and butterfly, Carl Mydans, 1958

(Source: leprintemps, via dollynymph)

(Source: imjustaninsectagain, via scarychav)

The days go by. But I’m still here. In full flower.
Let night come. Let the hour chime on the mantel.

Love goes away the way this river flows away.
How violently flowers fade. How awfully slow life is.
Guillaume Apollinaire, from “Le Pont Mirabeau,” trans. The Paris Review 

(Source: proustitute)

(Source: kokushi, via i-m-not-in-love)