Marguerite Mary

"habit is necessary, it is the habit of having habits, of turning a trail into a rut, that must be incessantly fought against if one is to remain can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration of one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in the big things, and happy in small ways."
-edith wharton

Yes, I need you, my fairy tale. For you are the only person I can talk to— about the hue of a cloud, about the singing of a thought, and about the fact that when I went out to work today and looked each sunflower in the face, they all smiled back at me with their seeds.

—Vladimir Nabokov in his first letter to his future wife, Vera.


alone | taken by meplease don’t remove the caption, thanks


alone | taken by me
please don’t remove the caption, thanks

I am profoundly enchanted by the flowing complexity in you.

—John Keats, from a letter to Fanny Brawne dated 5 November 1820 (via hardcopyandcoffee)

(via m1dnighttoker)


glass mugs

gold + cream + platinum

pumpkin butter




vanilla candles

wise hearts, wise feet

linen sweaters


fuzzy blankets

red rocks and desert landscapes 


The French called this time of day “l’heure bleue.” To the English it was “the gloaming.” The very word “gloaming” reverberates, echoes—the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamour—carrying in its consonants the images of houses shuttering, gardens darkening, grass-lined rivers slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights you think the end of day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (and they will, and they do) you experience an actual chill, an apprehension of illness, at the moment you first notice: the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is gone.

—Joan Didion, Blue Nights  (via mother-iron)

(Source: alighthouseofwords, via lovedublinfordreaming)