janeiro
fevereiro
março ♡
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mar 23 2025 + [tove jansson em moominland midwinter] "now come spring, but not at all as he had imagined its coming. he had thought that it would deliver him from a strange and hostile world, but now it was simply a continuation of his new experiences, of something he had already conquered and made his own" [edith wharton em summer] "she was blind and insensible to many things, and dimly knew it; but to all that was light and air, perfume and colour, every drop of blood in her responded. she loved the roughness of the dry mountain grass under her palms, the smell of the thyme into which she crushed her face, the fingering of the wind in her hair and through her cotton blouse, and the creak of the larches as they swayed to it" [rainer maria rilke em the book of hours / and you inherit the green of vanished gardens] and you inherit the green / of vanished ... jan 1 2025 ∞
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