picea koraiensis, russia. inst. — aesxsea
October 16 th. A dull and foggy day with a drizzle of rain. The house is banked in with rolling clouds, which rise now and then to show the dreary curves of the moor, with thin, silver veins upon the sides of the hills, and the distant boulders gleaming where the light strikes upon their wet faces. It is melancholy outside and in.
the vvitch: a new-england folktale i be the witch of the wood. i am. i am that very witch. when i sleep, my spirit slips away from me body and dances naken with the devil
isiltaur reblogged
you're not stuck. it's not over. you can claw yourself out again and again. find strength in yourself. find strength in others whom you can trust. the fight isn't over until you're dead.
hp & the half-blood prince (2009): moments. nicholas hooper — the drink of despair
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key to the ossuary, a pearl from the reliquary, half a melted taper, folded wafer page containing a hymn (gilded, ripped, sodden), rock crystal coffret (empty yet), wood splinters caught in a virgin veil, porcelain dove (wingless), porcelain lamb (legless), bottled tears (mother’s) on a black ribbon, stained glass eye piece, charred rose petals (damask), silver toe ring, flask of rosewater, delicately embroidered kerchief (tattered, white)
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“I used to love on winter nights To lie and dream alone (…)”
— Emily Brontë, from The Complete Poems of Emily Brontë; “XL,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
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Nadezhda Mandelstam, from "Hope against Hope: A Memoir," originally published in 1970
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“A winter sky, a soft warmish December sky whose tender ash grey makes of the rose with its rotting shades a transparent flower of amber.”
— Jean Lorrain, from Selected Poems; “Dropping Petals,” written c. 1889 (via violentwavesofemotion)
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Joseph Brodsky, from The Selected Poems of Joseph Brodsky; "A Letter in a Bottle,"