I am not good. I am not virtuous. I am not sympathetic. I am not generous. I am merely and above all a creature of intense passionate feeling. I feel—everything. It is my genius. It burns me like fire.

— Mary MacLane,I Await the Devil’s Coming  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: larmoyante)

21st April, MondayReblog
My mother used to say to me, ‘You can’t eat beauty, it doesn’t feed you.’ And these words played and bothered me, I didn’t really understand them until finally I realized that beauty was not a thing that I could acquire or consume. It was something that I just had to be. And what my mother meant by saying that you can’t eat beauty is that you can’t rely on beauty to sustain you. What actually sustains us, what is fundamentally beautiful is compassion for yourself and those around you. That kind of beauty inflames the heart and enchants the soul.

— Lupita Nyong’o  (via tiredestprincess)

(Source: voguememoirs)

21st April, MondayReblog

75 years ago, on this date, Billie Holiday recorded a song that Time Magazine would call song of the century: Strange Fruit, a song written about a lynching in the South. 

Holiday first performed the song at Cafe Society in 1939. She said that singing it made her fearful of retaliation but, because its imagery reminded her of her father, she continued to sing the piece making it a regular part of her live performances. Because of the poignancy of the song, Josephson drew up some rules: Holiday would close with it; the waiters would stop all service in advance; the room would be in darkness except for a spotlight on Holiday’s face; and there would be no encore. During the musical introduction, Holiday would stand with her eyes closed, as if she were evoking a prayer.

(Source: satindolls)

5194 listens

21st April, MondayReblog

cavernouscontemplation:

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, Grande Odalisque, 1814.
aseaofquotes:

Toni Morrison, Sula
20th April, SundayReblog
She was like the wilted flowers. Beautiful, yet slowly dying.

— Jean  (via awdoll)

20th April, SundayReblog
Get scared. It will do you good. Smoke a bit, stare blankly at some ceilings, beat your head against some walls, refuse to see some people, paint and write. Get scared some more. Allow your little mind to do nothing but function. Stay inside, go out - I don’t care what you’ll do; but stay scared as hell. You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself.

— Albert Camus, Notebooks, 1951-1959 (via larmoyante)

20th April, SundayReblog
pre-raphaelites:

 
The sun sees your body. The moon sees your soul.

— NJ (via cosmofilius)

(Source: bloodyprincessss)

20th April, SundayReblog