Let’s talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings;
How some have been deposed; some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
Some poison’d by their wives; some sleeping kill’d;
All murder’d for within the hollow crown.

(via swordofice)

phantomunmasked:

mezzoalex:

iloveitwhenyoucallmebigpapagena:

YES THANK YOU FOR GIFING THAT SLAP

How fitting. Haha!

OMG Jeremy Irons and Hiddlse in one picture!?!?!? 

You’re going to need more than a slap to make up for the number of times my ovaries have exploded.

Well, I could say the same thing to you, Mr. Irons. 

Oh, don’t play coy! You must know the effect you have on women! 

germancitygirl:

Some stills from Henry V. @twhiddleston performed this monologue here. It’s truncated but the ardor is there. Mos def, y’all.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour’d rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o’erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O’erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill’d with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call’d fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’

Henry V, Act 3, Scene 2

itsthesolarsystem:

→sherlock AU: sherlock as a hitchcock film; requested by ginny

(via johnhwatson-)

I LAUGHED. OH, BOY, DID I!

And I love that cute little thing he does with his mouth in the second gif. It’s like he’s thinking “WOAH, Fan, you just got OWNED. MAN! I am ON FIRE! I should just burst into flames any time now!” 

(via padfootwantsatummyrub)

phantomunmasked:

Because these two are just too wonderful together. 

THAT THEY ARE!!

Relationship dynamics: you are doing it right. 

(via bertie-wooster)