Thursday, March 13, 2014

risarodil:

Hannibal Season 1 | Episode Poster Designs

I can finally post these posters after working on them for weeks!

Available here

Thursday, May 16, 2013
fuckyeahmscl:

jetgirl78:

Angela: We both stopped talking. Part of his sleeve was touching my arm. I don’t know if he knew. Then everything started to seem perfect for some reason. The feel of his shirt against my elbow, the fact that I still had an elbow. It was the perfect moment for him to kiss me, for him to anything me.  — My So-Called Life, 1x02 “Dancing in the Dark” Nothing turns me into a fifteen year old girl faster than watching this scene. And, god, I totally loved Jordan for some irrational reason that the adult me doesn’t understand.

fuckyeahmscl:

jetgirl78:

Angela: We both stopped talking. Part of his sleeve was touching my arm. I don’t know if he knew. Then everything started to seem perfect for some reason. The feel of his shirt against my elbow, the fact that I still had an elbow. It was the perfect moment for him to kiss me, for him to anything me.
My So-Called Life, 1x02 “Dancing in the Dark”

Nothing turns me into a fifteen year old girl faster than watching this scene. And, god, I totally loved Jordan for some irrational reason that the adult me doesn’t understand.

Sunday, July 8, 2012
Whoever loved you, loved you. Loved your scars and their legends, loved each vagabond hair. The first time he caught you—lit up by the bright light of a midnight refrigerator, sneaking cookie dough into your mouth—he knew he would marry you. While you slept he called his mother to tell her, skated his finger down the bend in your nose and imagined it on a future daughter’s face. If he were a surgeon, he would chisel away at his patients until the whole world looked just like you. If he were a painter, there would be one million of your eyes opening all over this gritty metropolis. To him, you are perfect. But he is a simple man and the only way he knows how to tell you this is by turning on the lights when you make love—and you turn them right off. MEGAN FALLEY; TO THE WOMEN COMPETING ON E! ENTERTAINMENT’S HIT REALITY TELEVISION SHOW, “BRIDALPLASTY”
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
redmateria:

‘big thing’s have small beginnings’ 

redmateria:

‘big thing’s have small beginnings’ 

therotund:

The volume of my laughter at work was just super inappropriately loud. I DO NOT CARE.

(Source: catbushandludicrous)

Tuesday, April 17, 2012
I think the concept of a voice of generation is becoming less and less applicable. The world’s getting more and more full. Our generation is not just white girls. It’s guys. Women of color. Gay people. The idea that I could speak for everyone is so absurd. But what is nice is if I could speak for me and it’s resonant for people, then that’s about as much as I could hope for. Lena Dunham
Friday, April 6, 2012
cheapandjuicy:

ironfleet | lepoinconneurdeslilas

Don Cheadle & Chiwetel Ejiofor 
(by Carlos Serrao)

cheapandjuicy:

ironfleet | lepoinconneurdeslilas

Don Cheadle & Chiwetel Ejiofor

(by Carlos Serrao)

Saturday, March 24, 2012 Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Your body told me in a dream it’s never been afraid of anything. Richard Siken; “Detail of the Woods”
Sunday, October 9, 2011
You don’t get to have everything or everyone you want. And a lifetime of wanting is less poetic than you once thought. Let him/her go. Miranda July (via sundaymatineee)
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Love stories depend on disappointment, on unequal births and feuding families, on matrimonial boredom and at least one cold heart. Love stories, nearly without exception, give love a bad name. We value love not because it ’s stronger than death but because it ’s weaker. Say what you want about love: death will finish it. You will not go on loving in the grave, not in any physical way that will at all resemble love as we know it on earth. The perishable nature of love is what gives love its profound importance in our lives. If it were endless, if it were on tap, love wouldn’t hit us the way it does. Jeffrey Eugenides; My Mistress’s Sparrow Is Dead