September 2012
133 posts
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“People understand me so poorly that they don’t even understand my complaint...”
– By Søren Kierkegaard (via larmoyante)
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“I dream of lost vocabularies that might express some of what we no longer can.”
– By Jack Gilbert (via seabois)
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August 2012
189 posts
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“She’s a woman, you’re a dude. You’re not supposed to understand her. That’s not...”
– From Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson
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“Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can...”
– By Andrea Gibson (via speak-slow)
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Heaven’s a Lie by Lacuna Coil
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“I consider conversations with people to be mind exercises, but I don’t want to...”
– From It Occurred to Me by Jarod Kintz (via decembrist)
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“This is a story, told the way you say stories should be told: Somebody grew up,...”
– From Snow by Ann Beattie (via killamwithkindness)
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“What can I do with my happiness? How can I keep it, conceal it, bury it where I...”
– By Anaïs Nin (via decembrist)
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“In these minutes
left to myself, before the man and child scuff at the doorstep...”
– From Quarter to Six by Dorianne Laux
One of the most beautiful poems I’ve read in a long while. Full text HERE
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After a Greek Proverb
We’re here for the time being, I answer to the query— Just for a couple of years, we said, a dozen years back. Nothing is more permanent than the temporary. We dine sitting on folding chairs—they were cheap but cheery. We’ve taped the broken window pane, TVs still out of whack. We’re here for the time being, I answer to the query. When we crossed the water, we only...
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“There is nothing in the world so easy to explain as failure - it is, after all,...”
– From Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke
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“If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous...”
– From White Oleander by Janet Fitch (via her0inchic)
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“What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly...”
– By Sylvia Plath (via hellanne)
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Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out by...
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“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself; I am large — I...”
– By Walt Whitman (via whatokay)
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“Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of...”
– By Richard Brautigan (via batifoler)
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Wedged
You were the one who followed me into the elevator & asked for my phone number, she said. I didn’t lead you on. In fact, I tried discouraging you. I told you I had lots of problems. I was used to being alone. But now that you’ve wedged yourself into my life, don’t think leaving me will be as smooth as our first elevator ride. It’ll be like walking up a flight of...
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“It was the tension between these two poles — a restless idealism on one...”
– From The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson
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“… Memory is cursed with what hasn’t happened.”
– By Marguerite Duras (via seabois)
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“You’re mistaking this period when every nut is an individual for a period of...”
– From This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald (via arcticgrey)
Anonymous asked: How are you so pretty?
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The Oregon Trail is in My iPhone
& you, dear, are the longest goodbye. We always ford the river, but today the river takes you like I did that night. You know the night I’m crushing on, maybe, or I should tell it now, watch your cheeks light like the slightest explosion in the sky, or more importantly, like a bullet leaving its shell, its home now a new home, now a warmer home. The Oregon Trail is dizzying, putrid...
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The Oregon Trail Is a Lonely Place to Die from...
I am cowering in the corner of a corner, the halo so bright I’m like holy shit I can see through my fingers, holy shit I can see through penance, holy shit holy shit burning like a heated aerosol can. We always ford the river, but today child #2, Wendy, can’t stomach the gummas that have balled over my earlobes. Love me I say. Love me I whisper. Love me I carve into the side of my least...
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“Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life.”
– By Fernando Pessoa (via demise-of-sanity)
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“Of all the things I am not very good at, living in the real world is perhaps the...”
– From The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler (via larmoyante)
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From Red Riding Hood
And I. I too. Quite collected at cocktail parties, meanwhile in my head I’m undergoing open-heart surgery. The heart, poor fellow, pounding on his little tin drum with a faint death beat. The heart, that eyeless beetle, enormous that Kafka beetle, running panicked through his maze, never stopping one foot after the other one hour after the other until he gags on an apple and...
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“The interesting thing is why we’re so desperate for this anesthetic against...”
– By David Foster Wallace (via larmoyante)
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“You discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of...”
– By Anaïs Nin (via inmygalaxie)
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Shame on You by Mariah McManus
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“A story is a letter the author writes to himself, to tell himself things that he...”
– From The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon 