Wandering aimlessly among old paintings, losing myself in their silent poetry
“‘You said I killed you — haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe — I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always — take any form — drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, god! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!’”
Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚗 𝙻𝚎 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚞, 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 (𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟾𝟽𝟸)
Physically I'm studying but mentally I'm living in an old, abandoned castle filled with dusty books
Ig: pixel.planetarium
The heart has its storms, has its seasons of drooping but also its calms and even its times of exaltation. There is a time of sighing and of praying but there is also a time of answer to prayer. Weeping may endure for a night but joy cometh in the morning.
Vincent van Gogh, in a letter to Theo van Gogh, 3 November 1876 (via weltenwellen)
𝘙𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘭𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘺
Hallwylska Museet. x
Villa Farnese, Italy
“Its a hard world to be different in.”