nypl:

Happy Birthday William Butler Yeats! Born in 1865 in Dublin, this poet was the first Irishman to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923. You can check out the works of this Nobel Prize winning poet from the Library. 

nypl:

Happy Birthday William Butler Yeats! Born in 1865 in Dublin, this poet was the first Irishman to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923. You can check out the works of this Nobel Prize winning poet from the Library

frenchtwist:

“Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?”

Shakespeare, Sonnet LVII

He thought her beautiful, believed her impeccably wise; dreamed of her, wrote poems to her, which, ignoring the subject, she corrected in red ink.

Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf (published May 14, 1925)

Today’s a good day to correct with red ink or buy flowers yourself… or re-visit an old classic like Mrs. Dalloway. Have a perfectly Dalloway day!

(via nypl)
Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all. —  Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited (via hoodoothatvoodoo)
There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night. Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus (via frenchtwist)
liquidnight:

“Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.”
— Cormac McCarthy, The Road
Barren CanopyRattlesnake Ridge, Washington, August 2009
Shot with a Holga 120CFNFuji Velvia RVP100, cross processed
Via analogvisions, my personal photography blog

liquidnight:

“Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.”

— Cormac McCarthy, The Road

Barren Canopy
Rattlesnake Ridge, Washington, August 2009

Shot with a Holga 120CFN
Fuji Velvia RVP100, cross processed

Via analogvisions, my personal photography blog

I want to resemble a sort of liquid light which stretches beyond visibility or invisibility. Tonight I wish to have the valor and daring to belong to the moon.

Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary

via fuckyeahexistentialism * violentwavesofemotion (via frenchtwist)

(via frenchtwist)

There is as much difference between us and ourselves as between us and others. Michel de Montaigne, Of the inconsistency of our actions (via frenchtwist)
The curious are always in some danger. If you are curious you might never come home… — Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit (via liquidnight)
I was born lost and take no pleasure in being found… — John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America (via liquidnight)