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Aware of self reproach and sadness sleep envelopes her. Sorrow comes in the quiet dark. Offer your sorrow to the spring night, she tells herself. Half asleep, fog and mist, crying aloud in the dream. More ghosts, more to come, rising like grey death at
Scary forest | via Tumblr on We Heart It. https://weheartit.com/entry/68830237/via/MeuNomeEJoao
alwaysbringabookwithyou: Oxford in those days, was still a city of aquatint. In her spacious and quiet streets men walked and spoke as they had done in Newman’s day; her autumnal mists, her grey springtime, and the rare glory of her summer days - such
partway-mist: askdetectiveexie: This has got to be one of, if not the, weirdest things I’ve ever drawn. With question from Grey Element and Partway Mist Partway: I… I didn’t mean to offend you! Your consistency was more of a liquid than a gel,
mystery of love
hms-surprise: I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by; And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking, And a grey mist on the sea’s face,
undiesaddiction: YES! WE LOVE MATTHIEU
ivyblossom: Mark: [In the book] Dr Watson faints when he sees Sherlock.That’s what we’re told.Steven: Or at any rate, a grey mist rolls before his eyes, and the next thing he knows, his collar is undone and there’s the taste of brandy on his
irememberyousilly:this account is dedicated for people who love the rain, raindrops, sweatshirts, grey skies, mist, fog, coldness, gloomy weather, winter clothes, socks, jackets, autumn, coffee, books, neck kisses, handwritten letters and forehead kisses.
meggiecleary-deactivated2015012: There are different kinds of wings, the crow said… Bran was falling faster than ever. The grey mists howled around him as he plunged toward the earth below. “What are you doing to me?” he asked the crow, tearful.