ricky martin

There is always something left to love

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

nelly

It's a funny thing about the modern world. You hear girls in the toilets of clubs saying, "Yeah, he fucked off and left me. He didn't love me. He just couldn't deal with love. He was too fucked up to know how to love me." Now, how did that happen? What was it about this unlovable century that convinced us we were, despite everything, eminently lovable as a people, as a species? What made us think that anyone who fails to love us is damaged, lacking, malfunctioning in some way? And particularly if they replace us with a god, or a weeping madonna, or the face of Christ in a ciabatta roll---then we call them crazy. Deluded. Regressive. We are so convinced of the goodness of ourselves, and the goodness of our love, we cannot bear to believe that there might be something more worthy of love than us, more worthy of worship. Greeting cards routinely tell us everybody deserves love. No. Everybody deserves clean water. Not everybody deserves love all the time.

Zadie Smith, On Beauty

fckh8

FCKH8.com Straight Talk About Gay Marriage from FCKH8.com on Vimeo.

Here!

jake shears

Good days, they come around the oddest corners.

Let the Great World Spin, Colum McCann

tom hardy

The man above remained rigid, and yet his mystery was mobile. He stood beyond the railing of the observation deck of the south tower–at any moment he might just take off.

Let the Great World Spin, Colum McCann

mark wahlberg

Maðurinn finnur það sem hann leitar að, og sá sem trúir á draug finnur draug

Halldór Laxness, Independent People

gerard butler

há mar e mar, há ir e voltar

tom hardy

Handsome Bob: [Handsome Bob thinks about it for a moment] You see, I don't want the stripper, One Two.

One Two: [One Two nods] Okay.
Handsome Bob: I want you.

RocknRolla, Guy Ritchie (2008)

jake gyllenhaal

outros corpos de salsugem atravessam o silêncio

desta morada erguida na precária saliva do crepúsculo

Al Berto, O Medo

ryan reynolds

To make war all you need is intelligence. But to win you need talent and material

For Whom the Bells Tolls, Ernest Hemingway

fernando verdasco

Nola Rice: Has anyone told you you play an aggressive game?
Christopher "Chris" Wilton: Has anyone told you you have very sensual lips?
Nola Rice: Extremely agressive.

Match Point, Woody Allen

joe manganiello

Minha memória perde em sua espuma o sinal e a vinha. Plantas, bichos, águas cresceram como religião sobre a vida - e eu nisso demorei meu frágil instante. Porém teu silêncio de fogo e leite repõe a força maternal, e tudo circula entre teu sopro e teu amor. As coisas nascem de ti como as luas nascem dos campos fecundos, os instantes começam da tua oferenda como as guitarras tiram seu início da música nocturna.

O AMOR EM VISITA, Herberto Helder

photographers corner: andy houghton

marco da silva

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Sonnet 18, Shakespeare

attitude

channing tatum

Seres humanos patetas. A bater num caldeirão para fazer dançar os ursos, quando poderíamos enternecer as estrelas.

Ao cair da Noite, Michael Cunningham

kylie minogue

Uma das melhores músicas pop esquecidas de 2010!

gareth thomas on ellen show

Inspirational

magazine covers

Mark Wahlberg

Hugh Jackman

Ryan Reynolds

chris evans

Minh’alma, de sonhar-te, anda perdida.
Meus olhos andam cegos de te ver!
Não és sequer razão do meu viver
Pois que tu és já toda a minha vida!
...

E, olhos postos em ti, digo de rastros:
«Ah! Podem voar mundos, morrer astros,
Que tu és como Deus: Princípio e Fim!...»

Florbela Espanca, Fanatismo