Sublime
An inspiration engine for ideas
That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the comfort of the Resurrection
Cloud-puffball, torn tufts, tossed pillows | flaunt forth, then chevy on an air-
Built thoroughfare: heaven-roysterers, in gay-gangs | they throng; they glitter in marches.
Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash, | wherever an elm arches,
Shivelights and s
... See moreHeather Warnke
@hwarnke
Arielle Eshel
@arielleeshel
Ilse Ackerman
@ilse
Beth Freeman
@freeeli
Brooke
@lonesometoast
Grace Macaulay, then: seventeen, small and plump, with skin that went brown by the end of May. Her hair was black and oily, and had the hot consoling scent of an animal in summer. She disliked books, and was by nature a thief if she found a thing to be beautiful, but not hers. She didn’t know she couldn’t sing. She was inclined to be cross.
Sarah Perry • Enlightenment
Entheogenic Emily
@elkthoughts2396