Di Cieli E Giardini

The sky was a cocktail: a liquid purple intermixed with orange. The moon and stars waited patiently as the sun finished its torch-song and took its bows; the second act was to be theirs….

  • 1 year ago

Everything is Illuminated

I am going to take a moment to breathe in my blog. It has been much too long. The Muses sang a delightful yet meaningful version of ‘Wake Me Up When September Ends’ all of last month, which…

  • 1 year ago

Toast. It Would Choke Me.

It shall never cease to surprise me how quickly things unravel, how quickly the Helepolis finds a river it can be dunked into, how stupidly the bottom of the Trojan Horse collapses, and…

  • 1 year ago
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Overtures at Twilight, Or, Push the Button! Don't Push the Button!

Now that I am finally here, back in the Spitsbergen, I want to go home. By home, I mean The Eternal City. The sun would set in the Eternal City, there would be no web of…

  • 1 year ago

Senescence, Or Something Like It

I have found, of late, that I have a positive dearth of patience with the young. Or at least those who are younger than I am. Eighteen-year-olds are tolerable, I suppose, they have…

  • 1 year ago

"How pale the Princess is! Never have I seen her so pale. She is like the shadow of a white rose in a mirror of silver."

— Salome by Oscar Wilde (via lostinthehell) (via oscarwildeassembly) (via cheveuxroux)

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"How pale the Princess is! Never have I seen her so pale. She is like the shadow of a white rose in a mirror of silver."

— Salome by Oscar Wilde (via lostinthehell) (via oscarwildeassembly) (via cheveuxroux)

  • 1 year ago
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"I do not read to think. I do not read to learn.
I do not read to search for truth
I know the truth, the truth is hardly what I need.
I read to dream.
I read to live. In other people’s lives.
I read about the joys, the world
Dispenses to the fortunate,
And listen for the echoes.
I read to live,
To get away from life!"

— Fosca, Passion.

  • 1 year ago
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Patti LuPone plays a haunting, haunted Fosca, and the song is a great testament to one kind of relationship that can exist between one and his/her books. 

  • 1 year ago
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"She burned too bright for this world."

— Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte (via thepuckaliarcall)

  • 1 year ago
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