
Photographer Unknown, (A Circular Vision)
“Every man carries with him through life a mirror, as unique and impossible to get rid of as his shadow.”
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Reblogged with thanks to https://lofea.tumblr.com
A fine art, film, history and literature site oriented to, but not exclusively for, the gay community. Please be aware that there is mature content on this blog. Information on images and links to sources will be provided if known. Enjoy your visit and please subscribe.

Photographer Unknown, (A Circular Vision)
“Every man carries with him through life a mirror, as unique and impossible to get rid of as his shadow.”
―
Reblogged with thanks to https://lofea.tumblr.com
Photographers Unknown, The Present Instant in Its Full Reality
“Laziness acknowledges the relation of the present to the past but ignores its relation to the future; impatience acknowledges its relation to the future but ignores its relation to the past; neither the lazy nor the impatient man, that is, accepts the present instant in its full reality and so cannot love his neighbor completely.”
—W. H. Auden, The Complete Works of W. H. Auden: Prose, Volume 111: 1949-1955
Wagging His Tail
“In times of joy, all of us wished we possessed a tail we could wag.”
― W.H. Auden
Images reblogged with many thanks to https://pupphoenix12.tumblr.com
Photographer Unknown, (The Open Shirt Reveal), Selfie
“In the eyes of others, a man is a poet if he has written one good poem. In his own, he is only a poet at the moment when he is making his last revision to a new poem. The moment before, he was still only a potential poet; the moment after, he is a man who has ceased to write poetry, perhaps forever.”
—W. H. Auden, The Dyer’s Hand
Scott Salinger, “Francisco Gabriel”, Photo Shoot
“Narcissus does not fall in love with his reflection because it is beautiful but because it is his. If it were his beauty that enthralled him, he would be set free in a few years by its fading.
“After all,” sighed Narcissus the hunchback, “on me it looks good.
The contemplation of his reflection does not turn Narcissus into Priapus: the spell in which he is trapped is not a desire for himself but the satisfaction of not desiring the nymphs.
“I prefer my pistol to my p…,” said Narcissus; “it cannot take aim without my permission” – and took a pot shot at Echo.”
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