He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was dust.
He danced along the dingy days,
And this bequest of wings
Was but a book. What liberty
A loosened spirit brings!

Emily Dickinson (via observando)
i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses

e.e. cummings (via observando)

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.


Robert Frost (via observando)
I could do with a bit more excess. From now on I’m going to be immoderate—and volatile—I shall enjoy loud music and lurid poetry. I shall be rampant.
Joanne Harris, Chocolat (via observando)

wetheurban:

ART: The Human-Sized Kaleidoscope

Japanese artists and designers Masakazu Shirane and Saya Miyazaki have created an award winning, modular installation made from mirrors that formed a giant kaleidoscopic for the Kobe Biennial art container contest.

Read More


modcloth:

OMG. Lipstick shoes from Dolce Vita

This is thy hour o soul, thy free flight into the wordless, away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best, night, sleep, death and the stars.
Walt Whitman (via observando)