Miranda. Vagabond and International Woman of Mystery. Currently a Londoner. Gryffindor. INFP. Here you will find: History. Literature. Art Museums, Quirky British Things, Sturm und Drang, Pretty Boys with Cats, and Empresses. I am most likely imaginary, but don't let that stop you.
A solitary, unused to speaking of what he sees and feels, has mental experiences which are at once more intense and less articulate than those of a gregarious man. They are sluggish, yet more wayward, and never without a melancholy tinge. Sights and impressions which others brush aside with a glance, a light comment, a smile, occupy him more than their due; they sink silently in, they take on meaning, they become experience, emotion, adventure. Solitude gives birth to the original in us, to beauty unfamiliar and perilous - to poetry. But also, it gives birth to the opposite: to the perverse, the illicit, the absurd.Thomas Mann, Death in Venice (via myunreliablejournal)