All I'll ever be is a disaster stitched together with good intentions.



That’s fucking terrifying.

(Source: lunathepug)

Man is the animal who weeps and laughs — and writes. If the first Prometheus brought fire from heaven in a fennel-stalk, the last will take it back — in a book.

—from The Pleasures of Literature (1938) by John Cowper Powys. (via oakapples)

(Source: attackontaetan)


Art by Rafael Mantesso [instagram]

(Source: tastefullyoffensive)


Photos by Philipp Igumnov.

(Source: oldblueeyes)

Do they sense it, these dead writers, when their books are read? Does a pinprick of light appear in their darkness? Is their soul stirred by the feather touch of another mind reading theirs? I do hope so.

—Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale (via bibliophilebunny)