"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
that perches in the soul—
and sings the tune without the words—
and never stops—at all—

and sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
and sore must be the storm—
that could abash the little Bird
that kept so many warm—

i've heard it in the chillest land—
and on the strangest Sea—
yet, never, in Extremity,
it asked a crumb—of Me.
medicine:

Carmen Mitrotta
"Sometimes I’m walking along the street and a shaft of sunlight falls in a certain way across the pavement and I just want to cry."
— Take this Waltz (via charlottexroy)

(Source: acneiscool, via boytired)

bienenkiste:

Photographed by Jonty Davies for Marie Claire US October 1998
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