#Vow

[vaenili]

“…it’s the story of how i’ve loved you for our whole lives…”

i don't remember sharing this!! an old piece I did for vol. III of the @sorikuzine 💕✨☁💍

enjoy my sticker design, too!

OFF THEY GOOO

[illustratus]

Second Punic War. Hannibal's Oath.

by Silvestre David Mirys

Second Punic War: Hannibal vows to fight Rome to the bitter end. Date 220 BC

[ihobbit]

[vowtogether]

Hello friends and foes. This Free Comic Book Day, the VOW Collective is proud to soft-announce our next project.

Unmasked! A Super-Powered Romance Anthology is coming SOON! 👀

[savagechickens]

The Silent.

And more silence.

[acknowledgetheabsurd]

It's Sunday. The day is almost beautiful, with wind. They are playing boules on the road below and I can hear the clash of the balls from my room. The world is peaceful. How nice it would be to have the heart of a boule player in a Provençal village on a Sunday! But I promised myself to tell you the facts.

It's not much, it's true. Life continues with one more guest at the meals, Michèle Halphen who has moved to the hotel. I think she's leaving tomorrow. I like her but her sadness adds to the inertia of the days here. Yesterday, after a week's absence, Dolo came to liven up the house. I took her home in the evening. Sad too: she has been waiting for S[artre] for weeks, he said he would come at the end of this month and he announces that it will be at the beginning of the next. In short, things are not going well for her. Cheerful, isn't it?

I was repeating to myself Vigny's verse: "Separated lovers were united at the altars"! Come on, it's not for tomorrow. More important news: my brother is coming tomorrow. As the G[allimard]s are still here (they leave on the 20th) I will lodge him at the hotel. I will go tomorrow afternoon to Cannes to look for him. I am happy to see him again, but worried about him. I would like him to get well again. What else? A doctor from Grasse came to dinner with his wife. She had lost her mother following an operation that had caused an intestinal obstruction. The mourning was eight days old. Now you know that the company of more than four people exhausts me. Moreover, you can't count on the G[allimard]s to animate the conversation. So I made a great effort to talk about anything. The result was that I spoke successively about the cemetery in Cabris, about surgeons who are butchers, and about intestinal obstruction (all this without thinking of the deceased, of course). To finish, I told the story of Chamfort, where a doctor talking about his deceased patient said: "He is dead, no doubt, but he died cured."

On Wednesday Gide, who is in Juan-les-Pins where he is translating an English play for Barrault invited us all to lunch. Cartier, the producer I told you about and about whom you didn't tell me anything (but you are answering less and less to the questions I ask you. Linotte!) writes to me about his projects. I don't know why I trust him. After all, maybe we'll see The Plague on the screen. Now it's my turn. I've been muddy for two days. Headaches, vague nausea, I feel like I'm pregnant. I've even lost my rested complexion, but I guess it will pass. It is true that this waiting, it is silly to say, is so anxious that it ends up tiring me even physically. I exhaust myself imagining you and living our meeting in advance. Yet I behave wisely: a well-organized schedule, regular work (which does not necessarily mean fruitful work. There are good days and bad days, that's all). But the deprivation of happiness sometimes has the effect of under-nourishment, of asphyxiation too.

All my hope, all my courage comes finally from what I expect as a total reunion, love, emotion, joy, absolute freedom between us, bodies and soul, transparency and naturalness. And I do not wait for it as a utopia. I wait for it because I am sure of it. And it is not so far, no, it is not so far. Because listen carefully: yesterday in the mountain I saw the first flowers of the almond tree. The tree was still black. But at the ends of the branches a dozen or so frail and soft flowers were already rustling in the wind. You understand, my love, Maria dear! It was the extreme point of the extreme beginning of spring. And a great impulse came to my eyes and heart, which I can call no more than an impulse of adoration. I made a vow. I looked for a long time at the crying petals. And I went home, my heart full of love. Goodbye, my beautiful and wonderful love. I kiss my Valentine and give her the few flowers that we should give on Valentine's Day to the one that we love. You are the one I love, before every spring, and I kiss you deeply, with all my love.

Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, February 12, 1950 [#187]

[howifeltabouthim]

We will never lie to each other. You will always look at me like this.

Lisa Taddeo, from Animal

[the-liminal-place]

[corvianbard]

#5721

Princess of spring, Return to the gloomy king Of the underground As the vow bound By a pomegranate And crown proportionate.

[starlightfyre]

"I give my solemn promise; you have my eternal guidance and guardianship. Our hearts shall beat as one, Sir Knight of Dracoria… Galahad, the Dragon Hearted."

A photo I took that evoked an idea for a drawing! I've been rather depressed today, but I wanted to share this piece! I can't say much about it though. At least, not yet! It displays an important event that occurs in an upcoming origin story, "Embers in the Sky" 👀

Galahad and Branwen belong to me!

Kirby © Hal Labs

[illustratus]

The vow to Our Lady before leaving for the Crusade by Gustave Doré

[dndtreasury]

Armiger's Vow by Mithral Canvas

[wgm-beautiful-world]

Basilica del Voto Nacional - Basilica of the National Vow - Quito, ECUADOR

[tenth-sentence]

Maedhros made no answer, for he had now begun to devise the league and union of the Elves; but Celegorm and Curufin vowed openly to slay Thingol and destroy his people, if they came victorious from the war, and the jewel was not surrendered of free will.

"The Silmarillion" - J.R.R. Tolkien

[idlejet]

"You hold me like a stanchion, Mid-Atlantic. I hide you like a slip-stitch in my overcoat. You hold me like a stanchion, Mid-Atlantic. The love I send is stronger than the love in your parents’ house."

[random-bookquotes]

An Oath, a promise, a vow, isn’t just for when things are easy. It’s not just to cover the convenient cases. It’s always.

Selkie Myth, Adventures in the Argo (Beneath the Dragoneye Moons, #2)