1. Stourhead in autumn

  2. Reblogged from: hpstuffs
I don’t even know what clan you’re from

    I don’t even know what clan you’re from

    Reblogged from: outlander-starz
  4. The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
    That dances as often as dance it can,
    Hanging so light, and hanging so high,
    On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
    Samuel Taylor Coleridge (via pagewoman)
    Reblogged from: pagewoman
  5. Dead Poets Society (1989)

    Reblogged from: centaine
  6. We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?
    Dead Poets Society (via langleav)
    Reblogged from: langleav

...the little book of secrets...

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