gardenofchard

[gardenofchard]

Fyodor Dostoevsky, Poor Folk (translated by C. J. Hogarth)

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I know things aren’t very Fergalicious right now dude but hang in there

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makes you think of the art in never let me go

thinking about all the “small” art that’s ever existed. songs that were only ever sung in one village. stories written by children that got lost in the shuffle. personal paintings that didn’t survive the test of time. how they affected the lives of just a few, but still existed, still mattered to someone.

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anne lamott, bird by bird

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what's the matter honey? you've hardly touched your fleeting experience of time on earth

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Jeremy Miranda, USA Landscape (Fireflies after a rain) 16 July, 2023

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Mt Rainier from Pinnacle Peak

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2023

READ THAT STACK OF BOOKS NEXT TO YOUR BED

READ THAT STACK OF BOOKS NEXT TO YOUR BED

READ THAT STACK OF BOOKS NEXT TO YOUR BED

READ THAT STACK OF BOOKS NEXT TO YOUR BED

READ THAT STACK OF BOOKS NEXT TO YOUR BED

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wait ok now i'm curious how old were you when you joined tumblr and how old are you now

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Marieke Verdenius.

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Warm Gray

#pascalcampion

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an underrated detail in pride and prejudice is that elizabeth bennett was home alone on the day darcy proposed because she had a headache. can you imagine. this was in the pre-painkillers era. you're at home with a headache and then this asshole walks into the room and tells you he loves you and wants to marry you even though he hates your whole family and you're beneath him. imagine having to deal with that while also having a headache. she doesn't even have ibuprofen

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“Right now I want a word that describes the feeling you get - a cold, sick feeling deep down inside - when you know something is happening that will change you, and you don’t want it to, but you can’t stop it. And you know, for the first time, for the very first time, that there will now be a before and an after, a was and a will be. And that you will never again be quite the person you were.”

— Jennifer Donnelly, A Northern Light

“I need a little language such as lovers use, words of one syllable such as children speak when they come into the room and find their mother sewing and pick up some scrap of bright wool, a feather, or a shred of chintz. I need a howl, a cry.” 

— Virginia Woolf, The Waves