Alligator Farm at Sulphur Springs, Tampa
Manuscript of “Dulce Et Decorum Est” by Wilfred Owen. Rough draft with suggested revisions by Siegfried Sassoon.
Amanda Filipacchi, “Wikipedia’s Sexism Towards Female Novelists” in the New York Times, April 24, 2013 (via nprfreshair)
Sand Key Lighthouse postcard with alligator border
Walt Whitman hand written poem I cross’d the Nevadas…. Date unknown. 19th century.
I cross’d the Nevadas, I cross’d the
I ascended the towering rocks along the
Pacific, I sail’d out to sea,
I sail’d through the storm, I was re-
fresh’d by the storm,
I watch’d with joy the threatening maws
of the waves,
I mark’d the white combs where they
career’d so high curling over,
I heard the wind piping, I saw the
(Source: lastrider, via stormofswansons)
Laurie Edwards tells Terry Gross about how people often focus on cures as opposed to the daily needs of people who are ill:
With chronic illness, you know, there are no cures and so while it’s wonderful to push for the cure and to push for research, we also need to make sure that we’re not doing that at the expense of the everyday needs of patients who are already living with disease. So for me cure is great [but] it’s this idea that’s very distant on the horizon. It’s something that certainly all patients aspire to but it’s not something I think about very often. I want to get through the day. I want to make sure that I get my chest physiotherapy covered from my insurance company. I want to make sure that I grade my students’ papers and that I can run around with my little girl.
“Evening Swim” by Maja Lindberg via Etsy
John Keats, from a letter to Fanny Brawne in which he writes: “I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for religion - I have shuddered at it. I shudder no more - I could be martyred for my religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that.”
(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via fuckyeahmanuscripts)
(Source: bookshavepores, via fuckyeahmanuscripts)