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#virginia woolf – @araekniarchive on Tumblr
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arækni's web

@araekniarchive / araekniarchive.tumblr.com

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reblogged
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llovelymoonn
on june

emily dickinson complete poems of emily dickinson: “all these my banners be” (via @soracities) \ annette wynne why was june made? \ pablo neruda one hundred sonnets \ virginia woolf the waves \ l.m. montgomery anne of the island (via @metamorphesque) \ sylvia plath the unabridged journals of sylvia plath, 1950-1962 \ mahmoud darwish a river dies of thirst \ emily dickinson complete poems of emily dickinson: “ourselves were wed one summer–dear–” (via @soracities) \ philip larking cut grass \ morgan parker magical negro: “the black saint & the sinner lady & the dead & the truth”

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aridante

the complete works: the diary, virginia woolf // erasure, zoë lianne // dandelion wine, ray bradbury // the unabridged journals of sylvia plath, sylvia plath // the women, kim addonizio // august, mary oliver // the moon and more, sarah dessen // high bridge park, carlie hoffman.

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mitskey

—L.M. Montgomery, Anne of The Island/ Louisa May Alcott, Little Women/ Unknown/ John Keats, To The Ladies Who Saw Me Crowned/ Anne Sexton, Suicide Note: The Complete Poems/ Irish Murdoch, The Italian Girls/ Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath/ Anne Sexton, The Truth the Dead Know/ Virginia Woolf, The Waves/ Pablo Neruda, One Hundred Sonnets

Unknown is by Odysseus Elytis (found here)

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Anonymous asked:

hello! i love the work you do and how you interact with people!!

i was hoping to request loneliness as something comfortable, and how being alone can feel good sometimes even when you’re lonely

Ann Packer, The Dive from Clausen’s Pier

Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca

Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963

Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse

Ellen Burstyn (attrib.)

gentle.earth

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Autumn Sonata (1978) dir. Ingmar Bergman Moments of Being, ‘A Sketch of the Past’ by Virginia Woolf The Lost Daughter (2021) dir. Maggie Gyllenhaal Midnight Mass (2021) dir. Mike Flanagan Susan Smith by Wych elm Stoker (2013) dir. Park Chan-wook Poplar Street by Chen Chen Yellowjackets (2021-) cr. Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn Sharp Objects (2018) dir. Jean-Marc Vallée Succession (2018-) cr. Jesse Armstrong Please Look After Mother by Kyong-sook Shin Lady Bird (2017) dir. Greta Gerwig

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musings on Spring

— Rainer Maria Rilke, The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke | Pablo Neruda (?) | Louise Glück, Vita Nova | Alberto Caeiro, The Collected Poems of Alberto Caeiro | Vladimir Nabokov, Mary | Etel Adnan, Jebu | Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary | Bangtan Sonyeondan (방탄소년단), 봄날 (Spring Day) | Artwork by Claude Monet
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love’s languages

Porpentine Charity Heartscape, PSYCHO NYMPH EXILE

Tennessee Williams, The Vine

Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments

Andrea Gibson, Maybe I Need You

Jeanette Winterson, The Passion

Celine Sciamma, in an interview with The Independent

Virginia Woolf, The Waves

William Goldman, The Princess Bride

Alain de Botton, On Love

Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

Andrew Sean Greer, Less

Taylor Swift, illicit affairs

Rob Sheffield, Love Is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time

Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments

Nizar Qabbani, Language

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and we were living flames

Virginia Woolf, The Waves

Sally Benson, Stories of the Gods and Heroes; ‘The Myth of Prometheus’

Buddhist monk Thích Quảng Đức’s protest against anti-Buddhist legislation by self-immolation in Vietnam in 1963, photographed by Malcolm Browne

Mitski, A Burning Hill

Passenger, All The Little Lights

Anne Carson, interviewed by The Guardian

Daredevil (2015–2018), 1x05: World on Fire

Richard Siken, Straw House, Straw Dog

Wilfred Owen, in a love letter to Siegfried Sassoon, taken from My Dear Boy: Gay Love Letters Through the Centuries

Magnificent Century (2011–2014), Episode 99

Pablo Neruda, Ode To A Naked Beauty

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reblogged

“mowing” by ada limón / czeslaw milosz / “cosmos” by carl sagan / “the raven boys” by maggie stiefvater / “smother” by daughter / @orienta1ism / dharmacafé / “the raven king” by maggie stiefvater / “the waves” by virginia woolf / “wandering: notes and sketches” by hermann hesse (trans. james wright)

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luthienne
Anonymous asked:

hello! I hope you are having a good day :) you’re one of my favorite poetry blogs!

I have a bit of an odd request: collection of poetry about moths? the bugs? serious, silly, doesn’t matter. thank you so much! the stuff you collect is so beautiful <3

lisel mueller, second language: poems; “after whistler”

I am moonlight and moth flight, owl wing and wonder. I am flutter and flicker, last glimmer of twilight, first shimmer of starlight. I will take wing and dance in the shadow of moonbeams, for you my beloved, for you.

brian froudfaeries’ tales

nikki giovanni, from “poem (for ema)”

stig dagerman, a moth to a flame (burnt child) (trans. benjamin mier-cruz)

Your face shone / the first safe beacon I had ever seen. / I held on to that light / as a moth that knows night is coming / chooses to burn.

natalie wee, from ‘close encounters (for braidon schaufert), our bodies & other fine machines (x) 

rebecca lindenberg, excerpt of “love, an index”, from love, an index

Clouds are not only vapor, but shape, mobility, silky sacks of nourishing rain. The pear orchard is not only profit, but a paradise of light. The luna moth, who lives but a few days, sometimes only a few hours, has a pale green wing whose rim is like a musical notation. Have you noticed?

mary oliver, excerpt of “musical notation: 1”, in thirst

I could not ask her, she could not tell me why something had once made her weep. Had made her cover up her mouth and eyes in the slow work of the moth fed on white mulberry leaves. Had made her say: from now on daylight be black- and-white and menial in-betweens and let the distances be made of silk. My distances were made of grit and the light rain throws away in the hour between planets. And rush-hour traffic. My keys were ready.  
What she knew was gone and what I wanted to know she had never known: the moment her sorrow entered marble -   the exact angle of the cut at which the sculptor made the medium remember its own ordeal in the earth, the aeons crushing and instructing it until it wept itself into inches, atoms of change. Above all, whether she flinched as the chisel found that region her tears inferred, where grief and its emblems are inseparable.

eavan bolandin a time of violence; "the art of grief”

Goodnight now. I am so sleepy — I feel like a moth, with heavy scarlet eyes and a soft cape of down — a moth about to settle in a sweet bush . . . Would it were — ah, but that’s improper.

virginia woolf, in a letter to vita sackville-west [6 march 1928]

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Anonymous asked:

could i request for something on letter-writing (specifically as an expression of platonic love, if possible?) thank you so much <33 i love your blog

Emily Dickinson, in a letter to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, from ‘Emily Dickinson’s Letters

A letter from Virginia Woolf to her sister, Vanessa Bell

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

A. S. Byatt, Possession

Virginia Woolf, Jacob’s Room

Jacques Barzun, Introduction to The Selected Letters of Lord Byron

Letter from Vincent van Gogh to John Peter Russell

Susan Lendroth

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Anonymous asked:

Request: Love of reading and books

*AKA the whole inkheart book

Cornelia Funke, Inkheart

Virginia Woolf, Between the Acts

Cornelia Funke, Inkspell

Erica Baum, Dog Ear

Isaac Bashevis Singer, Naftali the Storyteller and his Horse Sus

Jorge Luis Borges, The Maker

Roald Dahl, Matilda

George R. R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

Matilda (1996), dir. Danny Devito

Cornelia Funke, Inkdeath

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reblogged

“To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be.”

“I am not the person I was born. Neither are you … Perhaps we feel as if we know one another well when we know several facets of that person.”

“Becoming yourself is not a growth process but a surrender of possibilities that we learn to regard as egregious, unbecoming. ‘Being yourself’ is inherently limiting … Social media offer a single profile for our singular identity, but our consciousness comprises multiple forms of identity simultaneously …”

“I am made and remade continuously. Different people draw different words from me.”

“I can’t be a singular expression of myself, there’s too many parts, too many spaces, too many manifestations, too many lines, too many curves, too many troubles, too many journeys, too many mountains, too many rivers, so many.”

“When I show myself in a different light, I do not make a pretense. Rather I bare a different aspect to the world than they have seen before.”

“For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock.”

“Instead of separating your behaviors and choices into good and bad categories, you need to learn how to let yourself be a human of many seasons. Respect your natural ebb and flow.”

“I thought once that gods are the opposite of death, but I see now they are more dead than anything, for they are unchanging, and can hold nothing in their hands.”

Richard Siken, “Portrait of Fryderyk in Shifting Light” - Heidi Priebe, This is Me Letting You Go - Robin Hobb, Fool’s Fate - Lindsay C. Gibson, Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents - Rob Horning, “Social Media Is Not Self-Expression” - Virginia Woolf, The Waves - Solange Knowles, “Can I Hold the Mic” - Robin Hobb, Fool’s Fate - James Baldwin, “Nothing Personal” - Hélène Cixous, Coming to Writing - Ask Polly, “I’m Starting a New Life, But There’s So Much Pressure to Get It Right!” - Madeline Miller, Circe.
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