- Gone to sleep with the thought that my life should really begin tomorrow or the day after - or the day after that - but soon (that, at least, is certain and ineluctable). - Salvador Dalí
- Remember to use the little book of calm: Be on the look out for things that make you laugh. If you see nothing worth laughing at, pretend you see it, then laugh and add a dab of lavender to milk; leave town with an orange, and pretend you're laughing at it
- “I think perfection is ugly. Somewhere in the things humans make, I want to see scars, failure, disorder, distortion.” — Yohji Yamamoto
- The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore. - Vincent van Gogh
- "i wanted the doctor to lean back in his chair and tell me why i couldnt read and why i couldnt sleep and why i couldnt eat and why everything everybody did seemed so silly, because they only died in the end." - sylvia plath
- "when i put my pen to paper, my hand made big scratchy figures like those of a child"
- "if you expect nothing from nobody, you are never disappoitned"
- “For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” — Vincent Van Gogh
- "Something will defeat you. Life will defeat you" - 1984 by George Orwell
- “There is a fundamental reason why we look at the sky with wonder and longing—for the same reason that we stand, hour after hour, gazing at the distant swell of the open ocean. There is something like an ancient wisdom, encoded and tucked away in our DNA, that knows its point of origin as surely as a salmonid knows its creek. Intellectually, we may not want to return there, but the genes know, and long for their origins—their home in the salty depths. But if the seas are our immediate source, the penultimate source is certainly the heavens… . The spectacular truth is—and this is something that your DNA has known all along—the very atoms of your body—the iron, calcium, phosphorus, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and on and on—were initially forged in long-dead stars. This is why, when you stand outside under a moonless, country sky, you feel some ineffable tugging at your innards. We are star stuff. Keep looking up.” — Jerry Waxman
- “For pain words are lacking. There should be cries, cracks, fissures, whiteness passing over chintz covers, interference with the sense of time, of space ; the sense also of extreme fixity in passing objects ; and sounds very remote and then very close ; flesh being gashed and blood sparting, a joint suddenly twisted - beneath all of which appears something very important, yet remote, to be just held in solitude.” — Virginia Woolf, The Waves
- “I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.” — Vincent Van Gogh
- “She wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there, leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together.” — J.D. Salinger, “A Girl I Knew”
- "As he caught his footing, his head fell back, and the Milky Way flowed down inside him with a roar." - Snow Country, by Yasunari Kawabata
- "We can only die in the future, I thought; right now we are always alive." - Amy Hempel; Reasons to Live
- Goodbye! I'll see you on the other side! Remember this: "Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom." - Proust; Sent from my friend P.Seith on 23/8/11
- “I felt like crying but nothing came out. It was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. But I think I have known it pretty often, too often.” — Charles Bukowski
- “So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon… I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being. And does not smite me down.” — Sylvia Plath
- In faith we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail among sacred islands of the mad till death shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real. - Sylvia Plath, Tale of a Tub
- I’m almost never serious, and I’m always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I’m like a collection of paradoxes. - Ferdinand von Schrubentaufft
- If i had my way we’d sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes’ – William S. Burroughs
- To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream. - Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
- “As soon as I say this, everyone will take the piss. It’s just, I think… part of me is always looking for someone to turn around, buy me a drink, give me a hug and say it’s all right… because I just go off on one. For days I can’t talk to people. And it shocks me because I’m still doing it. I want to be alone and I want people to notice me — both at the same time.” — Thom Yorke (Radiohead)
- “I love things with a wild passion, extravagantly. I cherish tongs, and scissors; I adore cups, hoops, soup turrents, not to mention of course- the hat. I love all things, not only the grand, but also the infinitely small: the thimble, spurs, dishes, vases. Oh, my soul, the planet is radiant, teeming with pipes in hand, conductors of smoke; with keys, saltshakers, and well, things crafted by the human hand, everything- the curve of a shoe, fabric, the new bloodless birth of gold, the eyeglasses, nails, brooms, watches, compasses, coins, the silken plushness of chairs. Oh humans have constructed a multitude of pure things: objects of wood, crystal, cord, wondrous tables, ships, staircases. I love all things, not because they might be warm or fragrant, but rather because- I don’t know why, because this ocean is yours, and mine: the buttons, the wheels, the little forgotten treasures, the fans of feathery love spreading orange blossoms, the cups, the knives, the shears, everything rests in the handle, the contour, the traces of fingers, of a remote hand lost in the most forgotten regions of the ordinary obscured. I pass through houses, streets, elevators, touching things; I glimpse objects and secretly desire something because it chimes, and something else because, because it is as yielding as gentle hips, something else I adore for its deepwater hue, something else for its velvety depths. Oh irrevocable river of things. People will not say that I only loved fish or plants of the rain forest or meadow, that I only loved things that leap, rise, sigh, and survive. It is not true: many things gave me completeness. They did not only touch me. My hand did not merely touch them, but rather, they befriended my existence in such a way that with me, they indeed existed, and they were for me so full of life, and they lived with me half-alive, and they will die with me half-dead.” — Pablo Neruda
- a fresh spiderweb, billowing, like a spinnaker, across the open window, and here he is, the little master, sailing by on a thread of milk, wish me luck, admiral, I haven't finished anything, in a long time - l.cohen
- For me, even when things are incredibly bleak in terms of the world you see reflected in the newspaper, I still sort of find you can get excited when you look in people’s eyes when they walk down the street and sometimes you see really nasty, terrifying things, but most of the time you just see a bunch of people trying to get it together and there’s something really hopeful in that. It sounds a bit bonkers, but there you go. — Thom Yorke, 2000
- “April is the cruellest month, breeding, Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing, Memory and desire, stirring, Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering, Earth in forgetful snow, feeding, A little life with dried tubers.” — The Waste Land, T.S. Eliot
- "I don't want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic. I try to give that to people. I do misrepresent things. I don't tell truths. I tell what ought to be truth." - Blanche DuBois, A Streetcar Named Desire
- "I suppose I have a really loose interpretation of "work," because I think that just being alive is so much work at something you don't always want to do. The machinery is always going. Even when you sleep." - Andy Warhol
- It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop. - Confucius
- I desire the things, that will destroy me in the end. - Sylvia Plath
- "When you're going through hell... Keep going!!!" - Winston Churchill
- "Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth." - Picasso
- Silence is beautiful, not awkward. The human tendency to be afraid of something beautiful is awkward. — Elliott Kay
- I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it. — Audrey Hepburn
- I am moved by fancies that are curled, Around these images, and cling: The notion of some infinitely gentle, Infinitely suffering thing. Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh; The worlds revolve like ancient women, Gathering fuel in vacant lots -thomas stearns eliot
mar 17 2012 ∞
mar 29 2012 +