bellasiel:

magictransistor:

Gustave Doré, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (Samuel Taylor Coleridge), Harper & Brothers, New York, 1876.

That fifth picture down though. I want that tattooed on my body.

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4,518 notes - 5 days ago - Reblog

theremina:

magiktrip:

The Gnarled Monster by Gustav Doré

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1,735 notes - 7 months ago - Reblog

ars-et-literae:

Gustave Dore, Rime of the Ancient Mariner: “The Death-Fires Danced at Night,” 1798

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452 notes - 1 year ago - Reblog

soyouthinkyoucansee:

1869 Gustave Dore

Andromeda

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376 notes - 2 years ago - Reblog

peril:

illustration of Ludovico Ariosto’s “Orlando Furioso” | artwork by Gustave Doré

476 notes - 2 years ago - Reblog

madonna-and-the-whore:

Gustave Doré - Dante et Virgile dans le neuvième cercle de l’Enfer, 1861

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31 notes - 2 years ago - Reblog

endymiion:

Spectrum appearance of Banquo, Gustave Dore

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394 notes - 2 years ago - Reblog

jaded-mandarin:

Gustave Dore :: The Inferno, Canto 5, lines 134­135: “In its leaves that day We read no more.”

Then turning, I to them my speech address’d.
And thus began: “Francesca! your sad fate
Even to tears my grief and pity moves.
But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,
By what, and how love granted, that ye knew
Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied:
“No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy, when mis’ry is at hand! That kens
Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly
If thou art bent to know the primal root,
From whence our love gat being, I will do,
As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day
For our delight we read of Lancelot,
How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no
Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading
Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue
Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point
Alone we fell. When of that smile we read,
The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d
By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er
From me shall separate, at once my lips
All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both
Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day
We read no more.”

22 notes - 2 years ago - Reblog

oldbookillustrations:

Oh senseless spirit! Let thy horn for thee
Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage
Or other passion wring thee.

Gustave Doré, from Dante’s Inferno, by Dante Alighieri, New York, circa 1866.

(Source: archive.org)

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146 notes - 2 years ago - Reblog