the hands of angels...
sideblog belonging to a baby witch.
currently: doing a summer fellowship, busy with work.

"As the days unfold and pass,
My love becomes a robe
Whose fastenings ever multiply
To hold and bind me." - 鉄輪

"Memories are like fragrance: effusive yet transient, and quivering like wrinkled hands."

Tanisha Rao, from “A Golden Nostalgia,” L'Éphémère Review (no. II, November/December 2017)

"I am so hungry for a place I cannot name. Ravenous. Ceaselessly."

"Her eyes are pure stars."

Virginia Woolf (via lace-and-peonies)

caballerodelatristefigura:

— Euripides, Bacchae 506 (tr. Reginald Gibbons)

writemeanna:

There was such need in her eyes. And then something monstrous.

nemfrog:
“Tropical forest.  The Americana : a universal reference library. v.15. 1903.
”
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