Tag: fav

the-mad-prince-of-denmark:

Hamlet: Embarrassing scar stories, go!

Ophelia: I once dropped my curling iron on my leg and burned it.

Horatio: I burned my tongue while drinking tea!

Guildenstern: See this scar on my upper arm? It’s from when Ros dug his nails into me really hard during sex!

Rosencrantz: Mhm, well you gave me THIS scar on MY arm while clinging to me during a sad movie!

Laertes: I have a piece of graphite in my hand from when I accidentally stabbed myself there in first grade.

Horatio: What about you, my lord?

Hamlet: I have EMOTIONAL scars.

unclefather:

unclefather:

a 7 year old that i have met 2 times just came out of her room and sat next to me on the couch and without saying hello she said “if you didn’t want to die, then why were you born?” and her mom said “PLEASE, Mackenzie. go upstairs” and she crossed her legs and said “no, mom. i want to hear what she has to say” ???

Her mom also told me that she “does this all the time”

cedrwydden:

hallandoates1970topresent:

tapireye:

can’t stop loving

medieval art

who could forget such classics as

Fish with Human Feet, Disgruntled that Life on Land sucks Just as much as it did In Water

Nuns Enjoying Their Yearly Harvest

A moknkey doing That Thing whilst Hedgehog looks on

Forlorn Cat with Vulva plays Mandolin

Them

Queen Cheats on Husband with Weird Serpent Man

and my favorite

Derrick You Leave your Sister Alone she is Your Family Now

It’s Just a Flesh Wound

Man Is Weirdly Unimpressed by Thirteen-Armed Woman

Dude, Put Some Fucking Hose On!!!

This Guy

elle-if:

Comédie de la Soif

1. Les parents 

Nous sommes tes Grands-Parents 

Les Grands ! 

Couverts des froides sueurs 

De la lune et des verdures. 

Nos vins secs avaient du cœur ! 

Au Soleil sans imposture 

Que faut-il à l’homme ? boire. 

MOI – Mourir aux fleuves barbares. 

Nous sommes tes Grands-Parents 

Des champs. 

L’eau est au fond des osiers : 

Vois le courant du fossé 

Autour du Château mouillé. 

Descendons en nos celliers ; 

Après, le cidre et le lait. 

MOI – Aller où boivent les vaches. 

Nous sommes tes Grands-Parents ; 

Tiens, prends 

Les liqueurs dans nos armoires 

Le Thé, le Café, si rares, 

Frémissent dans les boulloires. 

– Vois les images, les fleurs. 

Nous rentrons du cimetière. 

MOI – Ah ! tarir toutes les urnes ! 

[…]

4. Le pauvre songe 

Peut-être un Soir m’attend 

Où je boirai tranquille 

En quelque vieille Ville, 

Et mourrai plus content : 

Puisque je suis patient ! 

Si mon mal se résigne 

Si j’ai jamais quelque or, 

Choisirai-je le Nord 

Ou le Pays des Vignes ?… 

– Ah songer est indigne 

Puisque c’est pure perte ! 

Et si je redeviens 

Le voyageur ancien, 

Jamais l’auberge verte 

Ne peut bien m’être ouverte. 

~ Arthur Rimbaud

corrincovaris:

bigwinged:

accusativeofexclamation:

thoodleoo:

thoodleoo:

do u ever wish you could be like. a greco-roman lady in a 19th century painting. just lounging all day, looking bored. probably got ur tiddies out. thats the life

every neoclassical/early romantic piece of art is the dream honestly like

hang out in this rose garden with your girlfriend while she dumps flower petals on you. nice

alternatively hang out with your whole squad of nymph gfs in some water. just you and your gal pals, and this guy i guess. letting your tiddies hang out and all that

take a nap on these pillows surrounded by beautiful ancient frescoes, what’s not to love

tiddies out, nap game on, divine boyfriend, not a care in the world. these ladies have it so good

Dressed in gorgeous flowing clothes, hair game on point, sitting on warm marble by the seaside, responding ambiguously to yet another handsome suitor’s advances

h*ck yes

I love this era so much.

Napping on outdoor furniture that somehow never gets musty, and it’s warm enough to wear a gauzy nightie.

Maaan, I love

Pre-Raphaelite art so much. I love how soft it is and how the colours just-

hggngnmm