Tag: nudity

The Adoration of the Sailor

Photographer Unknown, Title Unknown, (Adoration of the Sailor)

“He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow, with black eyes, and hair as dark as the raven’s wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger.”
― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

The Hallway

 

Photographer Unknown, (The Hallway)

“What if it’s the there
and not the here
that I long for?
The wander
and not the wait,
the magic
in the lost feet
stumbling down
the faraway street
and the way the moon
never hangs
quite the same.”

–Tyler Knott Gregson, Chasers of the Light: Poems from the Typewriter Series

Source: kill-me-after

The Wayfarer

Photographer Unknown, (The Wayfarer)

“No man is brave that has never walked a hundred miles. If you want to know the truth of who you are, walk until not a person knows your name. Travel is the great leveler, the great teacher, bitter as medicine, crueler than mirror-glass. A long stretch of road will teach you more about yourself than a hundred years of quiet introspection.”
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man’s Fear

 

Reblogged with thanks to http://lokosdesnudos.tumblr.com

Leather and Chrysanthemums

Photographer Unknown, (Leather and Golden Chrysanthemums)

“Chrysanthemums”, my friend commented as we moved through ur garden stalking flower-show blossoms with decapitating shears, “are like lions. Kingly character. I always expect them to spring. To turn on me with a growl and a roar.’

― Truman Capote, The Thanksgiving Visitor

The Distant Mist

Photographer Unknown, (The Distant Mist)

“I returned to the courtyard and saw that the sun had grown weaker. Beautiful and clear as it had been, the morning (as the day approached the completion of its first half) was becoming damp and misty. Heavy clouds moved from the north and were invading the top of the mountain, covering it with a light brume. It seemed to be fog, and perhaps fog was also rising from the ground, but at that altitude it was difficult to distinguish the mists that rose from below and those that come down from above. It was becoming hard to discern the bulk of the more distant buildings.”
― Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose