(Source: beautygreenaventurine)

Thou fair-hair’d angel of the evening,
Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains high, light
Thy bright torch of love, thy radiant crown
Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
Smile on our loves, and while thou drawest the
Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew
On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes
In timely sleep. Let thy West wind sleep on
The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,
And wash the dusk with silver.
— To The Evening Star, by William Blake.

(Source: faeryhearts)

The Faery of Pure Joy. This luminous creature is the best-loved faery in all Faeryland.
— Good Faeries Bad Faeries, by Brian Froud.




[Artwork: The Faery of Pure Joy, by Brian Froud.]

(Source: faeryhearts)

The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands…
— The Tide Rises The Tide Falls, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Video: Water Melodies, by Isis Visuals.
Music: Return of The King, by Simon Daum.

O, to be sure, we laugh less and play less and wear uncomfortable disguises like adults, but beneath the costume is the child we always are, whose needs are simple, whose daily life is still best described by faerytales.
— Leo Rosten.




[Artwork by Miharu Yokota.]

(Source: faeryhearts)

Spring rain:
Everything just grows
More beautiful.
— Chiyo-Ni.

(Source: faeryhearts)

If I were a bee and you were a rose,
Would you let me in when the grey wind blows?
Would you hold your petals wide apart,
Would you let me in to find your heart,
If you were a rose?

“If I were a rose and you were a bee,
You should never go when you came to me.
I should hold my love on my heart at last,
I should close my leaves and keep you fast,
If you were a bee.”
—The Rose And The Bee, by Sara Teasdale.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Oh, fur-petaled purring
white chrysanthemum,
Your beauty could only be
eclipsed
By the face that launched a
thousand ships.
— Trajan Tennent.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Escape me?
Never —
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you,
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth,
While the one eludes, must the other pursue.
— Life In A Love, by Robert Browning.

The sun god Apollo was a magnificent archer, but sometimes he was prone to arrogance. One day, he caught sight of Eros, the son of Aphrodite. Eros was also an archer, and his arrows were responsible for instilling the twists and turns of love and lust in a person’s heart. Apollo teased young Eros, ridiculing his abilities as an archer, claiming that one so small could make no difference with his arrows.

Angry at this insult, Eros shot two arrows: one tipped in gold, one blunted and tipped with lead. The arrow dipped in gold had the power to create insatiable lust in a person, while the other created absolute abhorrence towards all things romantic and passionate. The unfortunate soul who was struck with that arrow would have no desire to love anyone. The arrow dipped in gold struck Apollo, but the arrow dipped in lead struck the fair Daphne.

Daphne was the daughter of the river god Peneus. Apollo chased down the nymph, desperate for her love, but she wanted nothing to do with him, and she ran from him endlessly. However, soon she grew weary in her running and, fearful that Apollo would ultimately catch her, she called out to her father for help. As all gods of water possess the ability of transformation, Peneus transformed his daughter into a laurel tree. Suddenly, her legs took root and her arms grew into long and slender branches.

Apollo reached the laurel tree, and, still enamoured with Daphne, held the tree in special esteem within his heart. He claimed the tree as his own, and adorned himself with some of its leaves. And that is why the laurel was, and still is, a symbol of the god Apollo.




[Artwork: Apollo And Daphne, by John William Waterhouse.]

(Source: faeryhearts)

So the world goes round and round with all you ever knew.

They say the sky high above is caribbean blue…

— Caribbean Blue, by Enya.

I do not hear a noise.
I hear many melodies
Where water sings across the rocks
With perfect pitch.
— Water Music, by Jane Yolen.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Nobody can keep on being angry if she looks into the heart of a pansy for a little while.
— Emily Climbs, by Lucy Maude Montgomery.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Real faerytales are not for the fainthearted. Children get eaten by witches and chased by wolves; women fall into comas and are tortured by evil relatives. Somehow all that pain and suffering is worthwhile, though, when it leads to the ending: happily ever after. Suddenly, it no longer matters if you got a B– on your midterm in French or you’re the only girl in the school who doesn’t have a date for the Spring formal. Happily-ever-after trumps everything. 
— Between The Lines, by Jodi Picoult.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Faery music is the most haunting music ever heard by human ears, sad and sweet, deeply sensual, tranquil one moment, demented the next.
— Good Faeries Bad Faeries, by Brian Froud.




[Artwork by Brian Froud.]

(Source: faeryhearts)