liquidnight:

John Shearer
“A barred, broken window is testament to the level of violence after inmates took over Attica Prison charging inhumane conditions; riot police were sent in 4 days later resulting in 10 guards and workers being killed along with 29 inmates.”
New York, 1971
[From the LIFE magazine Photo Archive]

liquidnight:

John Shearer

“A barred, broken window is testament to the level of violence after inmates took over Attica Prison charging inhumane conditions; riot police were sent in 4 days later resulting in 10 guards and workers being killed along with 29 inmates.”

New York, 1971

[From the LIFE magazine Photo Archive]

Cite Arrow reblogged from liquidnight
And with my cheek leant upon the window pane I like to fancy that I am pressing as closely as can be upon the massy wall of time, which is forever lifting and pulling and letting fresh spaces of life in upon us. May it be mine to taste the moment before it has spread itself over the rest of the world! Let me taste the newest and the freshest. Virginia Woolf, “The Journal of Mistress Joan Martyn” (via liquidnight)
Cite Arrow reblogged from liquidnight
liquidnight:

Wayne F. Miller
“Simple” was a character the poet Langston Hughes used in his syndicated newspaper column. Upon seeing the man in this photograph, Hughes said, “That’s him.”
Midwest United States, 1946-49
Published in Ebony, December 1951
From Wayne F. Miller: Photographs 1942-1958

liquidnight:

Wayne F. Miller

“Simple” was a character the poet Langston Hughes used in his syndicated newspaper column. Upon seeing the man in this photograph, Hughes said, “That’s him.”

Midwest United States, 1946-49

Published in Ebony, December 1951

From Wayne F. Miller: Photographs 1942-1958

Cite Arrow reblogged from liquidnight
Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and leading to the most outre results, it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, “A Case of Identity”
From The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (via liquidnight)
Cite Arrow reblogged from liquidnight