February 2012
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September 2011
houseofromanov:
Grief is a country where it rains and rains but nothing grows. The dead live somewhere else — wearing the clothes we remember them in.
Simon van Booy, Love begins in winter.
(or wearing the fur that I stroked each day)
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“Look at the moon. How strange the moon seems! She is like a woman rising from a...”
– The Page of Herodias, ‘Salome’ by Oscar Wilde (via funeral)
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