when john keats said “i carry all matters to an extreme, so that when i have any little vexation it grows in five minutes into a theme for sophocles”

Can’t believe Bram Stoker once sent a 2000-word fan letter to Walt Whitman which included his exact height, weight and how much he loved his poems and wanted to be friends with him, and that Whitman wrote back saying he liked his letter and hoped they could meet some day, how cute is that

And then he finally got to meet him and Stoker said “I found him all that I had ever dreamed of, or wished for in him” HOW CUTE IS THAT

bram stroker just mailed walt whitman his grindr profile just like that huh

— Alexander Pushkin, tr. by Alan Shaw, from “Scene from Faust,”

— The Idiot, Fyodor Dostoevsky, tr. Eva Martin (via existential-celestial)

Sylvia Plath, from The Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath; “The Jailor,” c. 1962

— Ingeborg Bachmann, from Three Paths to the Lake; “Eyes to Wonder,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

god i want the problems of a jane austen heroine so badly specifically sense and sensibility like oh no my dad died and my horrible brother left us destitute and by destitute i mean we only get to retain two of our Servants when we go live in a beautiful two story, stone house with a garden and farmland and caring if overbearing neighbors and it’s so sad bc despite attending balls I know I have no dowry so I’ll probably just have to marry for love ONLY instead of for love AND wealth as originally planned but little do I know in one month I’m going to marry rich anyway thank GOD life was getting hard having only two (2) servants : (

me: *goes for a walk by our wealthy young single neighbor’s house which by all rights is a Palace* oh no, I think it may rain……. *catches the cold in the rain and faints*

the neighbor, out on one of his brooding mid-rain horseback jaunts: >: O *picks me up and carries me into his home and insists to my family I shouldn’t be moved from his bed until I am well*

me:

The Signatures of the English romantic poets: 1. William Wordsworth 2. Percy Bysshe Shelley 3. John Keats 4. William Blake 5. Lord George Gordon Byron 6. Samuel Taylor Coleridge

women be crawling frantically on all fours around the perimeter of their room peeling off the wallpaper

russian classics aesthetic

Brothers Karamazov: orthodox monasteries, deep woods, starry nights, the sound of paper being torn, dimly lit rooms, withered roses, an unfinished letter, piles of books, the sound of shattering glass, ticking of clocks in a silent house, heavy wooden furniture, the air before a storm, the smell of earth, a crowd of people dressed in black, distant murmurs, emptied streets, the fear of walking alone in dusk

Crime and Punishment: coldness of the skin against a blade, slender pale fingers and slightly shaking hands, a red stain blooming on white fabric, lonely steps in a corridor, the slow dripping of water, looking out of the window into the thickening darkness, a single dying candle on the table, listening to one’s breath and counting heartbeats, too many stairs, the desire to be invisible, a subtle memory of kind word

The Idiot: classical statues, wealth covered with dust, a dark house tainted with inherited madness, an unsettling feeling, long walks in a park, useless chatter, a silken ribbon forgotten on a bench, a melancholic face, an unexpected spring rain, the joy of reading one’s favorite book, the clarity of mind after fully perceiving the world around, looking at cloudless sky  

Anna Karenina: fields of crops, flowers brought from an early morning walk, the wind caressing a girl’s hair, a bowl of fruit, the smell of ripe pears, the clatter of a spoon against porcelain when stirring tea, children’s laughter coming from the garden, soft sunlight and white curtains, the sensation of velvet against skin, pearls from a ripped necklace spilling on marble floor, a sudden silence in a room full of people

War and Peace: a glass of wine, the brightness of  a crystal chandelier, white lace, a raging snow storm, the sound of a door being gently closed, the moment of holding one’s breath before walking in a ball room, indulging in looking at a beautiful earring against light, the sound of a saber being drawn, closing one’s eyes for a moment while dancing, the sweet smell of strawberries, a pair of gloves left on an armchair, light scent of powder

The Master and Margarita: the chaos of a lively city, ambient jazz in expensive restaurants, jumping on a moving tram, the sight of Moscow from the roof of a house, yellow flowers in a vase, leaning out of the window, shelves stacked with books, a small tin box with old photographs, strange shapes in the night sky, laughing in the middle of the night on a balcony, colorful posters for a surreptitious magician’s show floating in the wind

Eugene Onegin: a lonely mansion, reading a book in the parlor, faint piano melody lingering in falling silence, long evenings, passing seasons, discussing french novels of the moment, unspoken thoughts, leaning against the door frame, quickly averted glance, eating a peach absent-minded, bright mornings, footprints in snow, a loud gun-shot terrifying a flock of birds nearby   

A Hero of Our Time: byronic boredom, getting up late in the afternoon, the hidden unspeakable sadness of existence, shakespeare’s tragedy opened next to untouched breakfast, cigarette smoke, polished boots, walking with one’s coat wide open letting the night chill break through to the bone, carved wooden chair, fading warmth of the ashes late in the evening, the thought of farewell  

Fathers and Sons: birch groves, morning mist, moss covered stones near a  moor, scientific books, white roses, cheap champagne, shabby pocket-watch, light-hearted irony, a maladroit cello sonata, freshly mowed grass, leaving thoughts come and go, a slow yawn, picturesque plates and bowls filled with traditional dishes, drinking tea on the porch, longing for the future   

Doctor Zhivago: a strange feeling of loss, writing poems in a diary, traveling by train, the hesitation before touching someone’s hand, the gaze of one lost in thought, the warmth of cinnamon, a scarf brightly embellished with flowers, a glass of water, two people listening each on the other side of the door, a threadbare jacket, the tempting void, the evanescent serenity of yesterday  

Dead Souls: horses in a merry gallop, delicious smells mingled, grotesque and bizarre tragedy, luxurious attire cheap soul, masks, a perfumed love letter, the triumph of sarcasm, an unattached wheel rolling down a dusty road, the atmosphere of commedia dell’ arte, puzzling speeches, a baffling caricature drawn on a handkerchief   

Cherry Orchard: a lone chair in an empty room, falling blossoms, old samovar, the unsettling need for change, a mirror reflecting full moon, the disappointment of a glossy object turning worthless after second glance, a piano out of tune