Grace Under Pressure ⎢ Elbow
~ We still believe in love, so fuck you ~
He is - Hephaestion.
002/100 photos of Colin Farrell
Because it never gets old. Because I keep thinking about this since I first saw it. I keep thinking about this because I’ve never seen either Colin Farrell nor Jared Leto look at someone else this way. The ladies at their sides never got the affection that you can see here. For me this is one of the most stunning shots ever. You see that at this point in their lives, and possibly long after, these two men were in love with each other. We can argue about the kind of love involved… Or we could just look at this forever.
a passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment; stereotype of romantic love
a love that is played as a game or sport; conquest; may have multiple partners at once
an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship, based on similarity
love that is driven by the head, not the heart
obsessive love; experience great emotional highs and lows; very possessive and often jealous lovers
selfless altruistic love; spiritual.
Alexander the Great had all of it. All the time.
Scorned, she wanders in the woods and hides her face in shame among the leaves, and from that time on lives in lonely caves. But still her love endures, increased by the sadness of rejection. Her sleepless thoughts waste her sad form, and her body’s strength vanishes into the air. Only her bones and the sound of her voice are left. Her voice remains, her bones, they say, were changed to shapes of stone. She hides in the woods, no longer to be seen on the hills, but to be heard by everyone. It is sound that lives in her.
Echo and Narcissus
— Ovid (via sunsets-sunrises)
Cycnus, the son of Sthenelus witnessed this marvel, who though he was kin to you Phaethon, through his mother, was closer still in love. Now, though he had ruled the people and great cities of Liguria, he left his kingdom, and filled Eridanus’s green banks and streams, and the woods the sisters had become part of, with his grief. As he did so his voice vanished and white feathers hid his hair, his long neck stretched out from his body, his reddened fingers became webbed, wings covered his sides, and a rounded beak his mouth. So Cycnus became a new kind of bird, the swan. But he had no faith in Jupiter and the heavens, remembering the lightning bolt the god in his severity had hurled. He looked for standing water, and open lakes hating fire, choosing to live in floods rather than flames.
From Book II of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Cycnus (mourning the death of Phaeton)
— True Love - Elliott Smith (via thursdaysatthearcade)
Colin Blunstone - Though You Are Far Away
So between you and I
Time and miles are not to cry
Close your eyes
And you will see
If you’re ever feeling sad, down and lonely
Think of me thinking of you
If you ever feel the need of somebody close to you
Think of me thinking of you
— Gillian Anderson (via raphaellaskies)
Would you like me to tell you the little story of right-hand/left-hand? The story of good and evil? H-A-T-E! It was with this left hand that old brother Cain struck the blow that laid his brother low. L-O-V-E! You see these fingers, dear hearts? These fingers has veins that run straight to the soul of man. The right hand, friends, the hand of love. Now watch, and I’ll show you the story of life. Those fingers, dear hearts, is always a-warring and a-tugging, one agin t’other. Now watch ‘em! Old brother left hand, left hand he’s a fighting, and it looks like love’s a goner. But wait a minute! Hot dog, love’s a winning! Yessirree! It’s love that’s won, and old left hand hate is down for the count!