[toiich]

Andrei Rublev (1966), dir. Andrei Tarkovsky

[feral-ballad]

Rafael Alberti, tr. by Ben Belitt, from An Anthology of Spanish Poetry: From the Beginnings to the Present Day, Including Both Spain and Spanish America; "Paradise Lost"

[Text ID: “Across centuries / and the void of a world, / sleepless, I seek you.”]

[weltenwellen]

Louise Glück, from “Otis”, Poems 1962 - 2012

[violentwavesofemotion]

“I am unknown: so what? These verses believe; they love; they hope: that’s enough.”

— Arthur Rimbaud, from a letter to his mother written c. April 1870, featured in “I Promise to be Good: Letters,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[metamorphesque]

— Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Vol. 4: 1944-1947

[isabelladjanis]

THE NEW WORLD dir.Terrence Malick

[escuerzoresucitado]

Andrei Rublev (1966), Andrei Tarkovsky.

[philosophybits]

The fact of spiritual stagnation should not be made the ground for judging all life’s possibilities from known possibilities. On the contrary, such stagnation should prove that however rich and multifarious the past may have been, it has not exhausted a tittle of the whole possibilities. From that which has been it is impossible to infer what will be.

Lev Shestov, All Things Are Possible (via philosophybits)

[memoryslandscape-deactivated202]

Sometimes dreams move with such vivid symbolic intensity, with such glorious surprise and symmetry, they read like poems.

Dana Levin, from “Some Notes on Poetry: Divination, reverie, dream,” The American Poetry Review (vol. 52, no. 2, March/April 2023)

[atreides]

“I have raged at the wall growing between myself and others. I expect intuitive, miraculous understanding, or else I’m disillusioned and don’t want to struggle to make things clear.”

— Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry featured in Trapeze: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1947–1955

[metamorphesque]

“Freedom isn’t enough. What I desire doesn’t have a name yet.”

— Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart

[starlit-pathways]

What goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives.

—Tales From Earthsea: Dragonfly, by Ursula Le Guin

[aaresx]

Albert Camus, The Fall

[typewriter-worries]

[ Text ID: But the heart has its own memory / and I have forgotten nothing. ]

[blackmoonmusings]

Fernando Pessoa, from The Book of Disquiet

[memoryslandscape-deactivated202]

“Will [she] be found only in my heart, my memories?”

— Sam Norman, a variation on “Hidden,” Amethyst Review (29 March 2019)

[virgin-martyr]

“Yes, I deserve a spring – I owe nobody nothing.”

— Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary (via hellanne)

[metamorphesque]

“I long to see you, hear your voice, My narcissistic object-choice.”

— Wendy Cope, As Sweet