my name is Legion

eve - 19 - writer - theology student with an equal obsession with philosophy, poetry and art. Blog mainly consists of lit quotes and shameless own-poetry.

[lifeinpoetry]

and I know I frustrate God, who built me for endings / and never says anything but YOU HAD ONE JOB.

Natalie Shapero, from “Absence, That Which Never,” Hard Child (via lifeinpoetry)

[lifeinpoetry]

I have believed, I have not believed, I have feared God

would turn out to be like Houdini: rumored withstanding of any assault, but in fact it takes only a few well-delivered

blows and a week and He’s gone.

— Natalie Shapero, from “On Magic,” Hard Child

[watchoutforintellect]

Not that I am loosing my grip: I am just tired of summer.

Joseph Brodsky, from “A Part of Speech” featured in Collected Poems in English (via watchoutforintellect)

[antigonick]

Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still.

Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (via antigonick)

[dappledwithshadow]

Joseph Mallord William Turner The Lake, Petworth, Sunset; Sample Study c.1827–8

[watchoutforintellect]

I thought of your body as one thinks of murder

Anne Sexton, from “Christmas Eve” in The Complete Poems (via watchoutforintellect)

[shored--fragments]

I was a winged obsessive, my moonlit feathers were paper. I lived hardly at all among men and women; I spoke only to angels.

Louise Glück, excerpt of Ancient Text (via antigonick)

[antigonick]

GUIL : We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.

Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (via antigonick)

[merulae]

Oh, the body—its hungers, needs, and limitations. You look at somebody and you realize that they’re in there, inside there, somewhere, and how will you ever reach them, understand them?

Richard Siken, Love From a Distance (via daisvbuchanan)

[eve-anttevar]

Was scrolling through your spilled ink tag and your writing is so beautiful! It must be a joy to know someone who writes like you do.

Oh, thank you hun! That's a very sweet thing to say.(I haven't written in so. long. I'm sorry. I'll get back to it soon)

[elvedon]

We give the hurt permission to use our teeth & skin like anchors. My hands were lullabies. Now they are razored fists of gospel. You shatter yourself without making a sound. No one is found guilty.

Ana Carrizo, “Not Guilty” (via elvedon)

[lifeinpoetry]

I am not as good as I believed—always falling, failing, / collapse—a spill of birds, a girl ripened with dead gardens.

Emily Corwin, from “trellis,” Darkling (via lifeinpoetry)

[antigonick]

GUIL : There must have been a moment, at the beginning, where we could have said—no. But somehow we missed it.

Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (via antigonick)

[lineandstanza]

Blaise Cendrars

[lifeinpoetry]

— Blaise Cendrars, from “Newspaper,” tr. Ron Padgett

[lifeinpoetry]

I feel like […] I have to brace myself for my own existence.

Kiki Nicole, from “The Flood,” Clean (via lifeinpoetry)

[artschoolglasses]

Bust of Julius Caesar

Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

[v-ersacrum]

Benjamin West, Jeremiah seeing a branch of flowering almond tree and Isaiah’s lips anointed with fire, c.1782