portrait-photo

The Wunderkammer of the Mild Colonial Boy, Esq., a Reactionary Tory Gentleman, who armed only with a Steampowered Babbage Engine and Pure Intentions, wanders the Time Streams and Aetheric Plane gathering an Eccentric Hodgepodge of Curiousities, Frivolities, Whimsicalities and Nonsense.

Q. Why is your Tumblelog called "My Ear-Trumpet Has Been Struck by Lightning"?

A. Because "My Grandmother's Ear-Trumpet Has Been Struck by Lightning" wouldn't fit in the available space.

"The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes, in seeing the universe with the eyes of another, of hundreds of others, in seeing the hundreds of universes that each of them sees."

— Marcel Proust (via forgottencityiram)

(Source: thedailyarts, via forgottencityiram)

books0977: “Reading is that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude” ―Marcel Proust “No days, perhaps, of all our childhood are ever so fully lived as those that we had regarded as not being lived at all: days spent wholly with a favourite book. Everything that seemed to fill them full for others we pushed aside, because it stood between us and the pleasures of the Gods.” – Marcel Proust, A Selection of His Miscellaneous Writings, translated by Gerard Hopkins (A Wingate, 1948)

books0977:

“Reading is that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude” ―Marcel Proust

“No days, perhaps, of all our childhood are ever so fully lived as those that we had regarded as not being lived at all: days spent wholly with a favourite book. Everything that seemed to fill them full for others we pushed aside, because it stood between us and the pleasures of the Gods.” – Marcel Proust, A Selection of His Miscellaneous Writings, translated by Gerard Hopkins (A Wingate, 1948)

"The pleasure that all men experience in mulling over their recollections is often keenest in those whom the tyranny of a malady and the daily hope of its cure keep, on the one hand, from seeking in nature images resembling those recollections and yet, on the other hand, leave confident that they will soon be able to do so. This hope adds an element of expectancy to memories and saves them from being mere recollections of a dead past."

— Marcel Proust (via f***yeahproust)

(via proustitute)