June 2012
“The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle...”
“Language is the mother, not the handmaiden, of thought; words will tell you...”
Final scene: Woody Allen's "Crimes and... →
We are all faced throughout our lives with agonizing decisions. Moral choices. Some are on a grand scale. Most of these choices are on lesser points. But! We define ourselves by the choices we have made. We are in fact the sum total of our choices. Events unfold so unpredictably, so unfairly, human happiness does not seem to have been included, in the design of creation. It is only we, with our...
“Sometimes I feel like a caretaker of a museum — a huge, empty museum where no...”
– Pinball 1973 (via harukimurakami)
tangledandfar:
Mine, O thou lord of life, send my roots rain.
-Gerard Manley Hopkins
“I know you’ll never love me but maybe you’ll stay for awhile.”
– Henry Rollins, Solipsist (via mattssf)
“[Lover, there is no more land,
no more West.] There is no place for you to...”
– “Cartographer” by DéLana R.A. Dameron (via fluttering-slips)
“I am not alone. Whatever else there was or is, writing is with me.”
– Lidia Yuknavitch, The Chronology of Water (via awritersruminations)
le printemps: Linda Pastan, "Time Travel" →
airwalker:
Elizabeth would choose The Middle Ages when cathedrals grew like stalagmites out of hard ground, and rainbows coalesced to stained glass.
David would choose the 17th century. He’d whisper in the ear of Galileo about dark matter and space explorers; he’d tell him never…
“now
something so sad
has hold of us
that
the breath
leaves and we can’t...”
– Charles Bukowski (via henrycharlesbukowski)
“I love you. I love you,
but I’m turning to my verses
and my heart is closing...”
– Frank O’Hara, from “Mayakovsky” (via growing-orbits)
: Work, SometimesI was sad all day, and why not.... →
growing-orbits:
Work, Sometimes
I was sad all day, and why not. There I was, books piled on both sides of the table, paper stacked up, words falling off my tongue.
The robins had been a long time singing, and now it was beginning to rain.
What are we sure of? Happiness isn’t a town on a map, or an early…
forgetlings:
(Each winter you wonder:
When I see Does light come Or disappear?
No no no – Not with your eyes.)
“Happy the hare at morning, for she cannot read
The hunter’s waking...”
“A dead man who never caused others to die seldom rates a statue.”
― W.H. Auden”
Matins by Louise Gluck
You want to know how I spend my time? I walk the front lawn, pretending to be weeding. You ought to know I’m never weeding, on my knees, pulling clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact I’m looking for courage, for some evidence my life will change, though it takes forever, checking each clump for the symbolic leaf, and soon the summer is ending, already the leaves turning,...
“Only trust someone who can see these three things in you: The sorrow behind your...”
– (via mymoose) 