Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare read by Tom Hiddleston
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.
“My God,” he gasped, “you’re fun to kiss.”— F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is The Night (via lesgardenias)
Spellbound (1945) dir. Alfred Hitchcock
Chosen by One Day Bridal New Reign 2018 Collection - Emmie Gown
The language of the eyes is like that of music; it makes nothing definite when no word has been said, but when it has, says more and says it better than do words themselves. - A Life, Italo Svevo (via chanelbagsandcigarettedrags)
…And God Created Woman (1956)