The Inherent Romanticism Of Being Thought Of.

Flair gun, Gundula Blumi (because)

Aretha Franklin and Lena Horne (ca. 1993)

“I walk around the school hallways and look at the people. I look at the teachers and wonder why they’re here. If they like their jobs. Or us. And I wonder how smart they were when they were fifteen. Not in a mean way. In a curious way. It’s like looking at all the students and wondering who’s had their heart broken that day, and how they are able to cope with having three quizzes and a book report due on top of that. Or wondering who did the heart breaking. And wondering why.”

— Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

donna summer, 1977 📷

'and i you' is undoubtedly the most perfect, most romantic respond to an i love you.

whatever

Patrick Syme, Charts for Werner’s Nomenclature of Colours: Adapted to Zoology, Botany, Chemistry, Mineralogy, Anatomy, and the Arts, 1821

Via brainpickings

i love analysing poems as much as the next guy, but sometimes i wonder - why can’t we just enjoy them? why can’t we simply read and see and feel what the author wanted, instead of dissecting every single word? poetry is an affair between you and the writer - let it be simple to appreciate too

Somewhere in northern Italy