February 2012
61 posts
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I want to express my being as fully as I can because I somewhere picked up the...
– Sylvia Plath
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When you are gone, your image in my mind sustains to me.
– Marta in Harsh Times (2005), directed by David Ayer
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But where in the language
should I look for you, when the language
is unworthy...
– Aleš Debeljak, Unanswered Plea
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Poetry is what you find
in the dirt in the corner,
overhear on the bus, God...
– Elizabeth Alexander, from “Ars Poetica #100: I Believe”
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I dream that I have found us both again, With spring so many strangers’ lives away, And we, so free, Out walking by the sea, With someone else’s paper words to say….
They took us at the gates of green return, Too lost by then to stop, and ask them why— Do children meet again? Does any trace remain, Along the superhighways of July?
― Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow (1973)
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Thomas Pynchon - Gravity’s Rainbow (1973)
She wandered away from him, down the beach. The sun is so bright today that the shadows by her Achilles tendon are drawn sharp and black as seams up the heel of a silk stocking. Her head, as always, is bent forward, away, the bare nape he’s never stopped loving, will never see again, unprotected as her beauty, her innocence of how forever in peril it moves through the World. She may know a ...
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There are ways of dying that don’t end in funerals. Types of death you...
– Haruki Murakami, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman
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I want to break out — to leave this cycle of infection and death. I want...
– Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow
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If you’re in pitch blackness, all you can do is sit tight until your eyes...
– Haruki Murakami
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This was another of our fears: that Life wouldn’t turn out to be like...
– Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending
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I know this much: that there is objective time, but also subjective time, the...
– Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending
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Is there no way out of the mind?
– Sylvia Plath, from “Apprehensions”
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We live in time - it holds us and molds us - but I never felt I understood it...
– Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending
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Books don’t offer real escape, but they can stop a mind scratching itself raw.
– David Mitchell
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Haruki Murakami: 1Q84
Aomame pressed an ear against his chest. “I’ve been lonely for so long. And I’ve been hurt so deeply. If only I could have met you again a long time ago, then I wouldn’t have had to take all these detours to get here.”
Tengo shook his head. “I don’t think so. This way is just fine. This is exactly the right time. For both of us.”
Aomame started to cry. The tears she had been holding back...
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Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they...
– Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (1929)
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We may have forgotten how to feel. Nobody is teaching us how to live happily...
– Yakov Smirnoff
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Tonight there must be people who are getting what they want.
I let my oars fall into the water. Good for them. Good for them, getting what they want.
The night is so still that I forget to breathe. The dark air is getting colder. Birds are leaving.
Tonight there are people getting just what they need.
The air is so still that it seems to stop my heart. I remember you in a black and white...
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We always see our worst selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone else...
– David Levithan
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Random thoughts for Valentine’s day, 2004. Today is a holiday invented by...
– Joel, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), directed by Michel Gondry
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Word of the Day for Tuesday, February 14, 2012
cordate \KAWR-deyt, adjective: 1. Heart-shaped. 2. (Of leaves) heart-shaped, with the attachment at the notched end.
Without any wind blowing, the sheer weight of a raindrop, shining in parasitic luxury on a cordate leaf, caused its tip to dip, and what looked like a globule of quicksilver performed a sudden glissando down the center vein, and then, having shed its bright load, the relieved...
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I’ve got to admire someone to really like them deeply - to value them as...
– Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath (July 1950 - July 1953)
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if you do not love me I shall not be loved
if I do not love you I shall not...
– Samuel Beckett, “Cascando”
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Let them sift through the ashes
with their burned hands. Let them
tell us what...
– Shirley Kaufman, from “Looking for Prophets”
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