Source: crookedsinAllow me to make something clear: finding humor in history is not a sin. Poking fun at the human aspects of the figures whom we’ve dedicated our lives to learning about, does not take away our credibility as historians.
History is not stiff. History is not flat. History is the…
I doodle all the time. On everything. So here, have some random faces.
for within the hollow crown
that rounds the mortal temples of a king
keeps death his court and there the antic sits
HENRY IV, pt i | (x)
…that’s not from Henry IV. That’s from Richard II (Act III, sc ii). Trust me. It is my favourite monologue from any play.
In its entirety it is as follows:
of comfort no man speak:
Let’s talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
Let’s choose executors and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath
Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
Our lands, our lives and all are Bolingbroke’s,
And nothing can we call our own but death
And that small model of the barren earth
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings;
How some have been deposed; some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
Some poison’d by their wives: some sleeping kill’d;
All murder’d: for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To monarchize, be fear’d and kill with looks,
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life,
Were brass impregnable, and humour’d thus
Comes at the last and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Cover your heads and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence: throw away respect,
Tradition, form and ceremonious duty,
For you have but mistook me all this while:
I live with bread like you, feel want,
Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus,
How can you say to me, I am a king?
(via phobs-heh)
Source: eatsleeptv
Do you ever have extensive daydreams in which you invent an entire alternate life/universe for yourself?
(via duchessofwellington)
Source: tightinvocabulary
Macfadyen recognizes that wounded pride can both humiliate and spark an attraction: “It is terribly attractive when your pomposity is noticed and then punctured in public. It is infuriating and embarrassing and you hate that person. When Elizabeth humiliates Darcy at the Meryton Ball, he finds it incredibly funny. I mean, he is mortified and hates her but goes home and locks all the doors and laughs hysterically into the pillow. That is why she is so attractive.”
(via sevenshipsdrowned)
Source: pemberley-state-of-mind
(via duchessofwellington)
For today’s art appreciation: Joseph Mallord William Turner (1775-1851).
Turner was an English painter and printmaker best known for his work The Fighting Temeraire Tugged To Her Last Berth (the top of this image set, and a terribly sad painting). However, he painted a large number of other amazing paintings - including a great number of landscapes.
I really feel obliged to point out that the lighting in his work is always astounding and atmospheric. Those Romantic painters and their skills. I mean, really.
…I am terrified to know. But it should at least be somewhat diverting!
(via duchessofwellington)
Source: sunflowercourtesan
