saturday / background practice piece
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Game of Thrones Daily

Love Begins

#extradirty
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Misplaced Lens Cap

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Janaina Medeiros

if i look back, i am lost

oozey mess

blake kathryn
hello vonnie
macklin celebrini has autism

â
cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

JBB: An Artblog!

JVL

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ

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@doyouevenlit
saturday / background practice piece

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Every book in the History of Literature summed up in a single sentence
@holdouttrout
a e s t h e t i c
Model: Elizaveta
Source.

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Huh! Who knew?
The Librarian: Quest for the Spear (2004) xx
Claude Debussy - Arabesque II Can we be happy and sad at the same time?
i was listening to this as i made soup, and suddenly, i felt elated, and reminded of that fleeting gladness i was reading about in arendtâs biography earlier. she says, after being hospitalized due to a car crash, something along the lines of âthat death is not so terrible, but to live is a beautiful thing, and if i can live with dignity, i should very much like to continue doing so.â i felt that, then, making soup, listening to debussy, knowing i have love and faith and support. i could smell the summer, and possibility, and life. and iâm learning to hold it all in my hands as gracefully as i can.
I could have been a priest instead of a prophet. The priest has a book with the words set out. Old words, known words, words of power. Words that are always on the surface. Words for every occasion. The words work. They do what theyâre supposed to do; comfort and discipline. The prophet has no book. The prophet is a voice that cries in the wilderness, full of sounds that do not always set into meaning. The prophets cry out because they are troubled by demons.
Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit (via yelenarossinis)
ChĂĄ com livros âŚÂ

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Some poetry about cats from the Old Possumâs Book of Practical Cats By T. S. Eliot in Elementary (4x12)
A small bookshop in downtown crystal lake, il
Paradise
I want a reimagining of Hamlet that is completely faithful to the original except that Hamlet is replaced with Craig Middlebrooks from Parks and Rec.
this is my friend Horatio and HE DROVE ME HERE.
Is⌠is this not basically what Hamlet is like?
@ofgeography
QUEEN GERTRUDE Alas, heâs mad!
HAMLET
OSRIC You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes isâ
HAMLET
GHOST Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
HAMLET Murder!
GHOST Murder most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange and unnatural.
HAMLET Haste me to knowât, that I, with wings as swift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge.
Ghost I find thee apt; And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: âTis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark Is by a forged process of my death Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth, The serpent that did sting thy fatherâs life Now wears his crown.
HAMLET
FIRST PLAYER
âŚ.But if the gods themselves did see her then When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport In mincing with his sword her husbandâs limbs, The instant burst of clamour that she made, Unless things mortal move them not at all, Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, And passion in the gods.â
POLONIUS
Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has tears inâs eyes. Pray you, no more.
HAMLET
GUILDENSTERN
Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame and start not so wildly from my affair.
HAMLET
HAMLET I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not, with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
KING CLAUDIUS O, he is mad, Laertes.
QUEEN GERTRUDE For love of God, forbear him.
HAMLET
HAMLET To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether âtis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, âtis a consummation Devoutly to be wishâd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, thereâs the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: thereâs the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressorâs wrong, the proud manâs contumely, The pangs of despised love, the lawâs delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscoverâd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.âSoft you now! The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins rememberâd.
OPHELIA Good my lord, How does your honour for this many a day?
HAMLET
HAMLET O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within these two hours.
OPHELIA Nay, âtis twice two months, my lord.
HAMLET So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for Iâll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then thereâs hope a great manâs memory may outlive his life half a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches, then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is âFor, O, for, O, the hobby-horse is forgot.â
FIRST CLOWN A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! aâ poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorickâs skull, the kingâs jester.
HAMLET This?
First Clown E'en that.
HAMLET [Takes the skull]

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Cricketâs library has been getting a little out of control lately, the books are spilling out over the chair and onto the floor, I think it may be time for us to spend a morning organizing it. Iâve always been drawn to her love of books, and I am so glad that I was able to build her this library. I hope that no matter where we end up, I will grow old watching Cricket nestled in her favorite chair, lost in her books and reading away. â Peter Schweitzer
Which âJabberwockyâ Character Should You Fight
The slithy toves: Toves are totes adorbs. And fun to watch. Donât fight them.
The borogoves: Theyâre kind of stickly and gristened, so it would be neither sporting nor appetizing to hunt them. But go ahead if you really want to.
The mome raths: Yeah, okay, raths are curtible in small numbers, but when entire flates come out in the early lefting itâs just an unstuppered onscramble of grabbling and gribing. Fight raths. Do I hear a snicker-snack? :)
The Parent: They give good, stolid advice. Donât fight your parents.
The Son: I wouldnât even. Have you viddied well his sword arm? Do not fuck with the Son. (If you must, bring something long and vorpal and try to catch him before brillig.)
The Jubjub bird: Honestly, go for it! Seriously. Good chumbly thigh meat. Two words, though: ranged weapons. And not a thimble-bow or splitten, bring something heavy with a good, stretted bowstring on it.
The Bandersnatch: Bandersnatchi are large, gluesome, and herbivorous. Fighting them is more inconvenient than unwisable, so Iâm going to back the Parent here: shun them. Shun Jinx entirely. Blandrous place for a vacation.
The Tumtum tree: what why itâs a tree I donât
The Jabberwock: look are you even paying attention