Alan Rickman reads Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
OH MY SWEET GOD
(Source: tiny-sized, via simplysimplejohnwimple)
Flapjack (or pancake) devilfish (or octopus) are rarely seen swimming in open water, preferring to flatten themselves on the bottom, when the reason for their name becomes apparent.
Common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.
Vladimir Nabokov (via saddest-summer)(via springsteen)
