I sometimes wonder why they take them out. Rare booksellers always leave them in. I love getting a book with someone else’s bookmarks or pics or B letters

I am begging you to start writing by hand to preserve your ability to think.

Delicate Tension by Wassily Kandinsky, 1923

RT @michiru_view: 🎨John Duncan (1866–1945) Scottish Symbolist painter “Saint Bride” 1913

When I’m on holiday, I always add an extra day or two just to stay in the hotel and do absolutely nothing. Sometimes I just want to lie in bed, watch my TV shows and exist in another country. Being a tourist every single day is exhausting 😂

Spent $5 more for the Centennial edition of East of Eden because I refuse to buy a book with that dumb sticker

'With the help of your good hands: Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please.' William Shakespeare, The Tempest #Drama #SentenceSunday

I am convinced that CAPTCHAs are no longer checking if I am human, they are just using my free labor to train self-driving cars to identify blurry traffic lights.

Tra le opere della maturità di #Raffaello, la #Madonna dell’Impannata colpisce per la capacità di unire la solennità della scena sacra alla naturalezza degli affetti familiari. 1511-1516, #Uffizi

Also, massage therapists, aromatherapy shops and chiropractors. Maybe a reflexologist. I would seriously use all of these

📚 Au Japon, des gens vont désormais en boîte de nuit… pour s’asseoir silencieusement et lire un livre pendant qu’un DJ joue de la musique d'ambience. Le concept s’appelle JUCY BOOK RAVE et se déroule notamment dans un club souterrain de Shimokitazawa, à Tokyo. Ici, pas besoin de danser ni de hurler pour parler à la personne située à 30 centimètres de vous. Les participants viennent avec un livre, s’installent dans la pénombre et lisent pendant que la musique accompagne leur soirée.

One of the biggest misconceptions about chronic pain is that you’ll know when we’re hurting. You probably won’t. We learned how to order coffee in pain. Answer emails in pain. Laugh in pain. Drive in pain. Make dinner in pain. Ask how your day was in pain. Some of us can carry on an entire conversation while privately calculating how many minutes we have left before our body wins. That’s what years of pain does. It doesn’t necessarily make the pain less severe. It makes the patient better at carrying it. And that’s where medicine sometimes makes a catastrophic mistake: It mistakes adaptation for absence. “You don’t look like you’re in that much pain.” Correct. I’ve had years of practice.

Frank Lloyd Wright, Design for Liberty magazine cover. 1927.

My @Spotify has decided it can’t remember the songs I have queued for about a week now. It’s almost driven me to swear too 😉

The 0–10 pain scale was never built to tell the whole story of chronic pain. When pain is your 24/7 baseline, asking “What’s your pain from 0–10?” without asking what that pain is doing to your function is almost meaningless. Ask me what I can do today that I couldn’t do yesterday. Can I shower? Cook? Drive? Sleep? Walk the dog? Leave the house? Participate in my own life? For chronic pain, function is the vital sign the pain scale keeps forgetting.