One of my heroes. Ingmar Bergman, 1960. (Taken with instagram)
(Source: angelasmassacre, via funeral-wreaths)
The Innocents, 1961.
What shall I sing to my lord from my window? What shall I sing for my lord will not stay? What shall I sing for my lord will not listen? Where shall I go when my lord is away? Whom shall I love when the moon is arisen? Gone is my lord and the grave is his prison. What shall I say when my lord comes a calling? What shall I say when he knocks on my door? What shall I say when his feet enter softly? Leaving the marks of his grave on my floor. Enter my lord. Come from your prison. Come from your grave, for the moon is a risen. Welcome, my lord.
(Source: oldhollywood, via tombstoneboogie)
Come on!
(via lipstickstainedlove)
(Source: mashaovcharova, via prettywhores)
#fromwhereistand (Taken with instagram)
Spicy Mystery Stories, August, 1935
One day I’ll stay here… (Taken with Instagram at Belmar)
Being with you and not being with you is the only way I have to measure time.
—Jorge Luis Borges (via rogeringthat)
(Source: roggyscanvas, via sailorscent)
Done by mitch allenden
(Source: spaceofficer, via lipstickstainedlove)
