Now, look at this:
That’s “Paul Mounet”, a french actor, who “died” in 1922.
His body never was found.
Then, look at this:
An unknown man, painted in 1530 by Parmigianino.
Compare them:
i believe.
(Source: vazerick, via so-shine-forever)
(via 39sundays)
When a fic is so good you have to take a break in order to roll around on your bed and flail your limbs everywhere
(via so-shine-forever)
fan fiction makes me do odd things…
(Source: invisible, via so-shine-forever)
(Source: setbabiesonfire, via infalliblequilibrium)
—
F. Scott Fitzgerald - The Great GatsbyStop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
—
W.H. Auden, “Funeral Blues” (via awritersruminations)This was read at the funeral of one of my mom’s dear friends by the husband she left behind. It was heartbreaking.
And if I just lay here, will you lie with me and forget the world?
(Source: redrockingchair, via horsesornothing)