A First Sign of the Beginning of Understanding is the Wish to Die.
― Franz Kafka
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George Theodore Berthon, The Three Robinson Sisters (detail).
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(kelseycook)
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I always forget how important the empty days are, how important it may be sometimes not to expect to produce anything, even a few lines in a journal. A day when one has not pushed oneself to the limit seems a damaged, damaging day, a sinful day. Not so! The most valuable thing one can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of a room.
— May Sarton, Journal of Solitude (kiki-de-la-petite-flaque)
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Fortunately I am not the first person to tell you that you will never die. You simply lose your body. You will be the same except that you won't have to worry about rent or mortgages or fashionable clothes. You will be released from sexual obsessions. You will not have drug addictions. You will not need alcohol. You will not have to worry about cellulite or cigarettes or cancer or AIDS or venereal disease. You will be free.
— Cookie Murller, Walking Through Clear Water in a Pool Painted Black.
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Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.
— Franz Kafka
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Robin de Puy
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crowcores
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To be silent the whole day long, see no newspaper, hear no radio, listen to no gossip, be thoroughly and completely lazy, thoroughly and completely indifferent to the fate of the world is the finest medicine a man can give himself.
— Henry Miller
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Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.
— Richard Siken, Editors Page: The Long and the Short of It (weltenwellen, oatbugs)
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sacredestate
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And, of course, people are interested only in themselves. If a story is not about the hearer he will not listen.
― John Steinbeck, East of Eden.
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Tereza Zelenkova (subnitida)
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Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
— W.B. Yeats
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Egor Shapovalov
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