Hallucinating Foucault

You use a glass mirror to see your face: you use works of art to see your soul

[argonauticae]

CHORUS: Brave girl. KASSANDRA: People never say that to a lucky person, do they?

Aeschylus, Agamemnon (trans. Anne Carson)

[themotivationjournals]

May love find you when you least expect, where you least expect.

Elif Shafak, The Forty Rules of Love

[bibliolectors]

[shareaquote]

I don’t believe in aging. I believe in forever altering one’s aspect to the sun.

Virginia Woolf

[quotespile]

Stories have no point if they don’t absorb our terror.

Don DeLillo, Mao II 

[wordsnquotes]

… loves are like empires: when the idea they are founded on crumbles, they, too, fade away.

Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

[shareaquote]

I’m a temporary being consumed by a lifetime of fantasies.

N.M.Sanchez 

[bykinomi]

[thequotejournals]

October, crisp, misty, golden October, when the light is sweet and heavy.

Angela Carter, The Magic Toyshop  

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

These October days are to me a little strained and surrounded with silence. What I mean by this last word I don’t quite know, since I have never stopped ‘seeing’ people—No, it’s not physical silence; it’s some inner loneliness—interesting to analyse if one could.

Virginia Woolf,

[thespiritofmine]

“The library is inhabited by spirits that come out of the pages at night.”

- Isabel Allende

[books-n-quotes]

It was strange the way he loved her; a side long and almost casual love, as if loving her were simply a matter of course, too natural to mention.

Chad Harbach, The Art of Fielding 

[books-n-quotes]

I know there may be universes out there where I made different choices and they led me somewhere else, led me to someone else. And my heart breaks for every single version of me that didn’t end up with you.

Taylor Jenkins Reid, Maybe in Another Life 

[barcarole]

[thelovejournals]

He smells like the bar nights I was too young for and the music my mother hated. He was elecricity and I was warm running water. A bathtub waiting for the toaster. I would have waltzed to the very ends of this Earth, just to be his, as long as he was mine.

Schuyler Peck, A December to Myself

[lifeinpoetry]

There is no looking glass here and I don’t know what I am like now. I remember watching myself brush my hair and how my eyes looked back at me. The girl I saw was myself yet not quite myself. Long ago when I was a child and very lonely I tried to kiss her. But the glass was between us — hard, cold and misted over with my breath. Now they have taken everything away. What am I doing in this place and who am I?

Jean Rhys; “Wide Sargasso Sea"  

[quotemadness]

Sometimes I wonder why words can’t actually make us bleed.

Swati Avasthi