August 2012
55 posts
“I often use the metaphor of Perseus and the head of Medusa when I speak of...”
– Ray Bradbury (via onpastmarsbeyondthestars)
“I can bear any pain as long as it has meaning.”
– Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via larmoyante)
“Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder.”
– Virginia Woolf, The Waves (via interfacedisconnect)
“I dreamed you, I wished for your existence.”
– Anaïs Nin (via seabois)
“Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold”
– Zelda Fitzgerald (via purpleamyxo)
“When I am silent, I have thunder hidden inside.”
– Rumi (via freyjageist)
“Let me loose in you, but not to be lost: loose like a wanderer, as I am among...”
– Ashley Bethard, “I Am Speaking the Language” (via usedfurniturereview)
“You can write any time people will leave you alone and not interrupt you. Or...”
– Ernest Hemingway (via theparisreview)
“I fear your disposition.”
– King Lear 4.2.32 (via let-us-recount-our-dreams)
“[Cannery Row’s] inhabitants are, as the man once said, ‘whores, pimps, gamblers,...”
– http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/824028-cannery-row (via iachild)
“Americans, like human beings everywhere, believe many things that are obviously...”
– Kurt Vonnegut (via wellmanicuredman)
“There are certain people who come into your life, and leave a mark… Their place...”
– Sara Zarr, Sweethearts (via 4mbivalent)
Timothy McSweeney: Why write poetry?
Rebecca Lindenberg: I think there is a general misconception that you write poems because you “have something to say.” I think, actually, that you write poems because you have something echoing around in the bone-dome of your skull that you cannot say. Poetry allows us to hold many related tangential notions in very close orbit around each other at the same time. The “unsayable” thing at the center of the poem becomes visible to the poet and reader in the same way that dark matter becomes visible to the astrophysicist. You can’t see it, but by measure of its effect on the visible, it can become so precise a silhouette you can almost know it.
“I was satisfied with haiku until I met you,
but now I want a Russian novel,
a...”
– Dean Young, excerpt from “Changing Genres” (via mitochondria)
“But I’ve become lost in a dream, searching for something that doesn’t exist.”
– Gabriel García Márquez, The General in His Labyrinth (via thethingswhichwilldestroyme)
“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”
– Ray Bradbury (via eastdakota)
The astonishing 2,500 year old tattoos of a... →
jackshoegazer:
The intricate patterns of 2,500-year-old tattoos - some from the body of a Siberian ‘princess’ preserved in the permafrost - have been revealed in Russia.
The remarkable body art includes mythological creatures and experts say the elaborate drawings were a sign of age and status for the ancient nomadic Pazyryk people, described in the 5th century BC by the Greek historian...
“I want to fill my mouth with your name.”
– Pablo Neruda (via kidkoni)
Missing You by Felix Cheong
sleepyandsilly:
I miss you dawn, dream and dusk, whenever my words run out and crawl, toothless and silent at last to the kennel of your heart.
I miss you in the privacy of pain, a cry tucked beneath sheets, a kiss unfinished over distances.
And I shall miss you when I’m neither here nor there, neither a ghost nor a shadow, more than love can endure, more than time will allow.
“I want to see you.
Know your voice.
Recognize you when you
first come ‘round...”
– Rumi (via atomiclanterns)
“You know what I am going to say. I love you. What other men may mean when they...”
– Charles Dickens, Our Mutual Friend (via in-vancouver)
“Under your skin the moon is alive.”
– Pablo Neruda (via thegirlwhofellintotherabbithole)
Milkshakes! →
“Science is the great antidote to the poison of enthusiasm and superstition.”
– Adam Smith, The Wealth of Nations, 1776 (via cystallineambermoments)
“May the drunkard soil with his vomit any place you enjoy.”
– Curse from The Epic of Gilgamesh (via thestuffhole)
“The pen is the tongue of the soul; as are the thoughts engendered there, so will...”
– Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote (via freudianintuition)
“I feel my body, my bones and flesh beginning to part and open upon the alone,...”
– As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner (via thehatefulheart)
“Maybe there’s something you’re afraid to say, or someone you’re afraid to love,...”
– John Green (via s0uhaitent)
“The way her body existed only where he touched her. The rest of her was smoke.”
– The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy (via sexandthenudist)
“every letter a noose, every comma a trigger”
– Vladimir Nabokov, Despair (via pizzaperty)
“Poetry is a naked woman, a naked man, and the distance between them.”
– Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Poetry as Insurgent Art (via fromyou-ananthology)
“It has become almost a cliche to remark that nobody boasts of ignorance of...”
– Richard Dawkins (via dustycas)
“There exists, for everyone, a sentence - a series of words - that has the power...”
– Philip K. Dick, VALIS (via wevelostallourcool)
“Love: a single word, a wispy thing, a word no bigger or longer than an edge....”
– Lauren Oliver, Delirium (via cultured-cultureslut)
“The kiss itself is immortal. It travels from lip to lip, century to century,...”
– Guy de Maupassant, The Complete Short Stories of Guy de Maupassant (via theblackquill)
“And if my heart be scarred and burned,
The safer, I, for all I learned.”
– Dorothy Parker, Sunset Gun (via larmoyante)
“It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute...”
– E.M. Forster, A Room With a View (via fuckyeah-literature)
“Sometimes she did not know what she feared, what she desired: whether she feared...”
– Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy (via wasdiana33)
“There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take...”
– Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale (via stopcallingmebitch)
“A Joke for the Literary World”
Charles Dickens: Please, sir, I’d like a...”
– (via iambecomeaname)
