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-Grantaire

Les Miserable (Victor Hugo)

By me <3

Goethe has said, that in youth we cannot be happy unless we love. I did not love; but I was devoured by a restless wish to be something to others.

Mary Shelley, from The Last Man. (via weepforadonais)

mum

Real talk, as a teacher in England I can confirm that the British government does everything and anything to avoid teaching the true extent of colonial history to English kids. 

You ask a modern English teenager about Northern Ireland and they probably can’t tell you about fucking anything currently going on there bar ‘I think we weren’t nice to them’, and that’s the country next fucking door so you know they don’t know shit about India or the Middle East.

The English government PURPOSEFULLY does not teach English children the real in’s and out’s of the British Empire despite a recent call to ‘widen the breadth of our curriculum’ because then where would our football hooligans who defend statues come from? 

Have a good conversation with any bald headed English bloke wearing an England football shirt with an EDL tattoo and test his knowledge of the Empire he loves so much. 100 quid he knows fuck all beyond ‘we civilized those people!’

And this is why no one fucking likes us, because there’s no active effort to teach our younger generations why we were wrong or how to make things better, but there’s a clear educational agenda to shield young English children from any extensive criticism of England.

-Wendla Bergmann.

This always makes me cry when she says it.

By me <3 

Imagine having someone miss you, yearn for your presence. They think of you so fondly, find pieces of you hidden in their favourite novels, and tucked away inside the prettiest songs. To them, you are the dark and comforting embrace of a storm, the gentle caress of a dream. A friend, a lover, whomever they may be, they make you understand the word ‘love’.

Pale beneath the blaze Hung the transparent foliage; and I watch'd Some broad and sunny leaf, and lov'd to see The shadow of the leaf and stem above Dappling its sunshine! And that walnut-tree Was richly ting'd, and a deep radiance lay Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps Those fronting elms

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge (This lime tree bower my prison) 

I’ve started a blog, because why not. Here it is. I’ve started it.

O to receive an anonymous love letter on perfumed paper, filled with romantic declarations and scraps of poetry

…there is something to be said for these shiftless days,

John Ashbery, The System  (via mauriacs)