London Collections: Men - GQ UK by Robert Fairer, June 2013

 A fashion shoot at Spencer House and my friend Simon Foxton neglected to tell me. Oh, the agony. 

(via knightinshiningsweaters)

 Posted on 19 May, 2013   |  595 notes  

“They’ve closed the chapel at Brideshead, Bridey and the Bishop; Mummy’s requiem was the last mass said there. After she was buried the priest came in — I was there alone. I don’t think he saw me—and took out the altar stone and put it in his bag; then he burned the wads of wool with the holy oil on them and threw the ash outside; he emptied the holy water stoup and blew out the lamp in the sanctuary and left the tabernacle open and empty, as though from now on it was always to be Good Friday. I suppose none of this makes any sense to you, Charles, poor agnostic. I stayed there till he was gone, and then, suddenly, there wasn’t any chapel there any more, just an oddly decorated room. I can’t tell you what it felt like.”

— Cordelia Flyte, Brideshead Revisited

 Posted on 28 April, 2013   |  1 note  

whatshouldwecallgradschool:

This. All the time. Final year woes.

 Posted on 13 April, 2013   |  145 notes  

“I wrapped myself in a thick overcoat & sat for two minutes, tears streaming out of my cold eyes and loathed the world, – came back to the house – empty and cold – how I hated having written anything: so I wandered out again & shivered & longed to destroy the work of my hands – all wasted…”

— Edward Elgar in 1912, the day after completing The Music Makers - his soul-searching choral masterpiece - which I can wait to hear performed by the Hallé tomorrow. I can relate to his feelings right now. I know my research is more than competent, and yet trust none of it and detest it often.

 Posted on 5 April, 2013   |  3 notes  

“Great minds against themselves conspire
And shun the cure they most desire”

— Chorus. Purcell, Dido and Aeneas, Act III.

 Posted on 19 March, 2013   |  3 notes  

This afternoon, walking through the city with a new pair of bicycle tyres thrown over my shoulder, it felt so very nearly Spring. Was it the light, the fresh breeze, or simply the pleasure of leaving the lab at a reasonable time having gathered some nice data? Or all of the above?

What I do know is this: That although it is certain to be cold, grey and bleak tomorrow, meteorologically and otherwise, the Spring will come - as sure as Lent will end.

 Posted on 27 February, 2013   |  6 notes  

agirlcalledhenrietta:

Amazing to have gone from snow to almost spring in a week. Though we must remember that there is still all of February to go, and March can be pretty cold. But it’s not long to sunshine. Not long.

Waiting in the sunshine before this morning’s piano recital (Louise Besette playing Bax, Fauré, Brahms and Lecuona), I finally started to believe that spring would come again - as lovely as the snow has been.

 Posted on 27 January, 2013   |  1 note  

“Glaub, was wahr ist; Lieb, was rar ist; Trink, was klar ist.
Believe what is true; love what is rare; drink what is clear.”

— Inscription on the wall of a Coblenz wine cellar. Seen by Patrick Leigh Fermor on his journey through Europe, and recounted in A Time of Gifts.

 Posted on 23 January, 2013   |  2 notes  

Sarah Kay - “Postcards”

There is a girl who still writes you. She doesn’t know how not to.

That hurt. (via jaccccc)

 Posted on 21 January, 2013   |  13 notes  

Queen of the Night on the Ukulele (Mozart/UkeLaila)

Just as wonderful as the title would suggest. Now, will someone please get on and produce a full Magic Flute set in Hawaii.

 Posted on 19 January, 2013   |  1 note