February 2012
7 posts
“And she wanted for a moment to hold and devour him, wanted his mouth, his ears,...”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald
I understand only this: It is lonely in a place that can burn so fast.
We want so much, When perhaps we live best In the spaces between loves, That unconscious roving, The heart its own rough animal.
A Hunger So Honed by Tracy K. Smith
“Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.”
– David Foster Wallace
“Oh, darling, you will be good to me, won’t you? Because we’re going to have a...”
– Ernest Hemingway
January 2012
2 posts
Too I am too little butter on too much bread I am too many thoughts in too little head. Tyler Knott Gregson
“In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the...”
– Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion
December 2011
9 posts
“Live for awhile in the books you love. Learn from them what is worth learning,...”
– Rilke, Viareggio, April 5, 1903, Letters to a Young Poet
Swirled tight, trussed, manic, most trusted. You love hills, swells, waves of sand, waves of water. You love traffic on bridges that might split in two. You love stairs leading to stairs leading to ice cream stands. Shards of pottery as good as a map. You love fractured control towers and the very broken Alaskan Way Viaduct. You love squat corner stores and barber-pole signs. You love the idea of...
(What are your ghosts like?) (They are on the insides of the lids of my eyes.) (This is also where my ghosts reside.) (You have ghosts?) (Of course I have ghosts.) (But you are a child.) (I am not a child.) (But you have not known love.) (These are my ghosts, the spaces amid love.)” ― Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated
All I really need is to feel the bed dimple when you crawl inside. Tyler Knott Gregson
“I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to...”
– Haruki Murakami
“Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright...”
– The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Just let me slip out the front door. Let us stop these foolish cravings. Pish and posh and love stories. Can’t we know better? Please, don’t hide my things beneath the covers. Don’t leave me scattered. Please, I promise you I will be silent. I promise you you won’t hear a thing. I promise you I will not wake you. Not even for a second. I will kindly pack my belongings in a small, aching tote and I...
“And she wanted for a moment to hold and devour him, wanted his mouth, his ears,...”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald
November 2011
23 posts
Wide, the margin between carte blanche and the white page. Nevertheless it is not in the margin that you can find me, but in the yet whiter one that separates the word-strewn sheet from the transparent, the written page from the one to be written in the infinite space where the eye turns back to the eye, and the hand to the pen, where all we write is erased, even as you write it. For the book...
“I don’t consider myself a pessimist. I think of a pessimist as someone who is...”
– Leonard Cohen
I like writers. If you speak to a writer you often get an answer.
There are two rules for success: 1. Never tell everything you know. Roger H. Lincoln
And your very flesh shall be a great poem. Walt Whitman
“By the time you swear you’re his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his...”
– Dorothy Parker (via quote-book)
/ Since she left →
sincesheleft:
Sometimes the thought crosses my mind when I ride in over the bridge. The weather so bitter and cold. The lampposts bleed reflections into the East River. There is not another soul on the bridge, just dimly lit bike path. But my mind wanders and I see a flash of hair. It’s too early in the morning for any logical thinking.
You must be sleeping, any person with normal working...
Because there was no other place to flee to I came back to the scene of the disordered senses Anne Sexton
“I often think that a slightly exposed shoulder emerging from a long satin...”
– Bette Davis
1 tag
“Sometimes, I think the only art left for us is slowly peeling the label off a...”
– Lynda Barry
“To hell, to hell with balance! I break glasses; I want to burn, even if I break...”
– Anaïs Nin
The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart I do not mean the symbol of love, a candy shape to decorate cakes with, the heart that is supposed to belong or break; I mean this lump of muscle that contracts like a flayed biceps, purple-blue, with its skin of suet, its skin of gristle, this isolate, this caved hermit, unshelled turtle, this one lungful of blood, no happy plateful. All hearts...
She wondered how the moon, two hundred and thirty-nine thousand miles above the roof, could affect her as profoundly as it did. Being four times larger than the moon, the earth appeared to dominate. Caught in the earth’s gravitational web, the moon moved around the earth and could never get away. Yet, as any half-awake materialist well knows, that which you hold holds you. Neither the earth could...
The Tired Mermaid | Matthea Harvey The Tired Mermaid wishes for once her horoscope would just read: hungover today, stay in bed. Instead it feeds her false futures and she starts each new day expecting to finally shine up her trident or compose a ship-sinking shanty. Too much Chianti and none of these things get done. The sun is a blade in the eye that hurts her seaweedy head and doesn’t help her...
We were together. I forget the rest. Walt Whitman
“If we never speak again,
that would be fine—honestly, I have nothing to say....”
– Christopher Goodrich, excerpt from For My First Wife, While Married to My Second
October 2011
11 posts
“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”
– L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables (via blua)
My blood is alive with many voices telling me I am made of longing. Rilke, from The Book of Hours I, 39
nepenth -
something, such as a drink or a drug, capable of making one forget suffering
“He kissed her. A kiss about apple pie a la mode with the vanilla creaminess...”
– Weetzie Bat, Francesca Lia Block
“Buy me a ring that will turn my finger green so I can imagine our love is a...”
– Andrea Gibson (via yunzi)
