not yet I don't!

Scarlett Johansson

Gustav Klimt, Pear Tree

I have this print in my room. It’s pretty big, and pretty pretty.

Buchenwald (Birch Forest), by Gustav Klimt

Glimpsed at these moccasins and gasped. The colors, the design, the material— it’s all perfect!

Sylvia Plath at her typewriter.

“…tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty house, the warm hazy weariness from a day spent setting strawberry runners in the sun, a glass of cool sweet milk, and a shallow dish of blueberries bathed in cream. Now I know how people can live without books, without college. When one is so tired at the end of a day one must sleep, and the the next dawn there are more strawberry runners to set, and so one goes on living, near the earth. At times like this I’d call myself a fool to ask for more…”

I just got the Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. Sweet autumn! It’s a heavenly read.

Stuff No One Told Me

Vladimir Nabokov’s own copy of Lolita.

Other than writing, his other great passion was butterflies. He used to draw them all the time, especially on the dedication page of his own novels that he would then give to his wife, Vera. None of them were real butterflies though— all made up.

If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.

Talking about unknown photo sources… I have always considered this image to be breathtaking, but have never been able to figure out where it’s from.

Bright Star

Kat Dennings