mortisia:

Marta Astfalck-Vietz - Selbstmord in Spiritus, 1927 | edit
inneroptics:

Milan Borovička
inneroptics:

Hans R SchlŠpfer, 2 Nudes
I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.
Franz Kafka (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: psych-facts, via thedarknessafterthesun)


Bloodletting sounds lovely right about now
mpdrolet:

Asger Carlsen
Missing someone is a vague, unpleasant sensation, like gnawing anxiety. It isn’t as concrete as grief, but it’s just as pervasive and there’s no escaping it.
Sue Grafton, C is for Corpse (via simply-quotes)

(Source: simply-quotes, via amccalltoarms)


When people stop writing, it’s one of two things – they are either really fucking happy or broken beyond repair.
Ming D. Liu (via bellecs)

(Source: writingquotes, via exchangingtwohundred)


retroreverbs:

Suppose we look at the feet of children in our class. There will still be differences. How many can you find? How many children have their second toe longer than their big toe? How many shorter?

© Barbara Traub
I love those mornings when you wake to darkness and no one is asking anything of you. You’re under no pressure to exist. This is something of which I am in constant need.
C.R.   (via thatkindofwoman)

(via thenocturnals)


We are so lightly here. It is in love that we are made. In love we disappear.
Cohen, Leonard -
Boogie Street (via volaream)

(Source: petrichour, via sheisdeadnow)