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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.
sometimes i wonder
if all the gorgeous in the world
lies inside this tiny man’s not-so-tiny brain
i think it does…
Tom Hiddleston reads She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron
She walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that’s best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes;Thus mellowed to that tender lightWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade the more, one ray the less,Had half impaired the nameless graceWhich waves in every raven tress,Or softly lightens o’er her face;Where thoughts serenely sweet express,How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,The smiles that win, the tints that glow,But tell of days in goodness spent,A mind at peace with all below,A heart whose love is innocent!
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.
Mr. Sex.The man with the key is king and honey you should see me in a crown
Isn’t it boring always alive, nothing more just alive
I am the villain in your fairy tale and I will bring you down
I will ruin you and they will turn on you, your precious town
You are done with no more ways to survive
The man with the key is king and honey you should see me in a crown
The key is yours and they will hunt you down
You’ve lost their trust on which you so thrive
I am the villain in your fairy tale and I will bring you down
The waters raising up to watch you drown
Looking down from the top like a scared kid at the pool why don’t you just dive
The man with the key is king and honey you should see me in a crown
You moron you think there is a key, well I will bring you down
You think you can save them so long as I don’t die
I am the villain in your fairy tale and I will bring you down
I’ll1 make sure I’m not around
I’ll test the waters for you, just watch me dive
The man with the key is king and honey you should see me in a crown
I am the villain in your fairy tale and I will bring you down
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
Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll ~ Read By Benedict Cumberbatch
Andrew Scott reads: The underground by Seamus Heaney
There we were in the vaulted tunnel running,
You in your going-away coat speeding ahead
And me, me then like a fleet god gaining
Behind you before you turned to a reed
Or some new white flower japped with crimson
As the coat flapped wild and button after button
Sprang off and fell in a trail
Between the Underground and the Albert Hall.
Honeymooning, mooning around, late for the Proms,
Our echoes die in that corridor and now
I come as Hansel came on the moonlit stones
Retracing the path back, lifting the buttons
To end up in a draughty lamplit station
After the trains have gone, the wet track
Bared and tensed as I am, all attention
For your step following and damned if I look back.
