Hello my precious blueberries! This blog contains Doctor Who, Harry Potter, Sherlock, Avengers, and smatterings of Supernatural, LotR, Pixar, and much more! To see all my absolute favorites, look under #brilliant. I do use a lot of tags to categorize things, for my own purposes.
MERLIN FUN FACT #13.
37 of the Merlin actors have also appeared in Doctor Who.
In which the actors are so NOT their characters that it’s almost creepy
yeah I kinda promised myself I wouldn’t do more Sherlock art but I figure an unfinished sketch is ok
“There’s something very enjoyable about watching them together because they are almost diametric opposites in styles of acting,” he said.
“Benedict is this sort of beautiful, exotic creature. He’s never going to play an ordinary man, ‘cause he couldn’t. That’s not what he’s like, but he will tell the stories of great men.
“Whereas I think Martin Freeman does the exact opposite: he makes ordinary people fascinating. He finds the poetry in just being ordinary, and that’s an extraordinary, exquisite gift. He can tell the story of our lives and make it fascinating.”
To His Coy Mistress by by Andrew Marvell, read by Tom Hiddleston
Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time’s winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserv’d virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am’rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp’d power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
Tom Hiddleston reading Shakespeare Sonnet 130
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
BITE ME ALIEN BOY