Do you know or could you clearly imagine, what a cold person is, a cold spirit, a cold soul, a cold body, everything cold, the whole being at once? It isn’t death, because next to it, inside the person, exists a sense of that cold—its ‘burn'—I cannot say it any other way. Death is preferable if it is simply nonexistence and its cold is only the absence of all warmth. But this cold is the cold of condensed air and this existence is like the existence in Dante’s Inferno…
—Zinaida Gippius, from a letter to Dmitry Filosof c. September 1920 (via violentwavesofemotion)





![theearofvangogh:
“ Silence [1799 - 1801]
Henry Fuseli [1741 - 1825]
”](https://66.media.tumblr.com/7da359ba451ed0e64a2a8e27656dd67d/tumblr_mwlb009oUB1qiy50po1_500.jpg)
