in memoriâ @lythrontiro-argestes - Tumblr Blog

The very air here is miraculous, and outlines the reality change with the moment. The sky sucks up the land and disgorges it. A dream hangs over the whole region, a brooding kind of hallucination.

#john steinbeck #the log from the sea of cortez #chapter 10 #this is about mirages on land seen from the sea

weltenwellen

Joy Sullivan, “My Mother Asks How I'm Doing with Just Whisky and Cats”, Instructions for Traveling West

#joy sullivan #poetry

singing-bowl

thinking about how ursula k leguin said "what goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives" and how everyday i wake up slightly different and i can feel myself shed the skin of who i used to be slowly, slowly, until i look back and can scarcely recognise who i was... but also she is still a part of me, part of the leaf litter and the humus, supporting me as i send new roots down and new leaves stretching up to the sunlight

To say that we actually believed in vampires or werewolves would be a carelessly inclusive statement. Rather it must be said that we were not prepared to deny the possibility of certain unfamiliar and unclassified modifications of vital force and attenuated matter; existing very infrequently in three-dimensional space because of its more intimate connexion with other spacial units, yet close enough to the boundary of our own to furnish us occasional manifestations which we, for lack of a proper vantage-point, may never hope to understand.

#The Shunned House #H.P. Lovecraft

literaryfragments

““There are not many persons who know what wonders are opened to them in the stories and visions of their youth; for when as children we learn and dream, we think but half-formed thoughts, and when as men we try to remember, we are dulled and prosaic with the poison of life. But some of us awake in the night with strange phantasms of enchanted hills and gardens, of fountains that sing in the sun, of golden cliffs overhanging murmuring seas, of plains that stretch down to sleeping cities of bronze and stone, and of shadowy companies of heroes that ride caparisoned white horses along the edges of thick forests; and then we know that we have looked back through the ivory gates into that world of wonder which was ours before we were wise and unhappy.”

— HP Lovecraft, Celephais

#h.p. lovecraft #celephaïs

You invaded my country by accident, / not knowing you had crossed the border. / Vines that grew there touched you.

You ran past them,

shaking raindrops off the leaves-you or the wind. / It was toward the hills you ran, / inland-

I invaded your country with all my / 'passionate intensity' / pontoons and parachutes of my blindness, / But living now in the suburbs of the capital / incognito,

my will to take the heart of the city / has dwindled. I love

its unsuspecting life, / its adolescents who come to tell me their dreams in the dusty park among the rocks and benches, / I the stranger who will listen.

I love

the wild herons who return each year to the marshy outskirts.

What I invaded has

invaded me

-Denise Levertov, Ways of Conquest

#Denise levertov #poems 1972-1982 #the freeing of the dust #vietnam war era #a text post #ways of conquest

emotionsincascades

“She loved people and things to be beautiful, and pinned a bunch of wildflowers into her coat with as much pleasure as a breathtaking diamond brooch. Sometimes just to look at Miranda’s calm oval face and straight corn-yellow hair gave her a sharp little stab of pleasure.”

— Joan Lindsay, Picnic at Hanging Rock (1967)

#joan lindsay #picnic at hanging rock

megairea

“History suggests that the human spirit wanders farthest in the silent hours between midnight and dawn. Those dark fruitful hours, seldom recorded, whose secret flowerings breed peace and war, loves and hates, the crowning or uncrowning of heads.”

— Joan Lindsay, Picnic at Hanging Rock, 1967

#joan lindsay #picnic at hanging rock

When they reached the clump of rushes where the stream changed its course Miranda stopped, turned her shining head and gravely smiled at Mademoiselle who smiled back and waved, and stood there smiling and waving until they were out of sight round the bend. 'Mon Dieu!' she exclaimed to the empty blue, 'now I know . . .'

'What do you know?' asked Greta McCraw, suddenly peering up over the top of her book, alert and factual, as was her disconcerting way. The Frenchwoman, seldom at loss for a word, even in English, found herself embarrassingly tongue-tied. It simply wasn't possible to explain to Miss McCraw of all people her exciting discovery that Miranda was a Botticelli angel from the Uffizi . . . impossible to explain or even think clearly on a summer afternoon of things that really mattered. Love for instance,

#picnic at hanging rock #joan lindsay #a text post

"Except for those people over there with the wagonette we might be the only living creatures in the whole world," said Edith, airily dismissing the entire animal kingdom at one stroke.

#picnic at hanging rock #Joan Lindsay #a text post

Thread post on how to stop their mother from falling for a scam:

"Come up with a more compelling lie and sell it to her instead. No, I’m serious.

You can’t reason someone out of a position they didn’t reason themselves into." -Reddit user calamitylamb

#a text post

The only activity for which I was of any use at all was running, so I ran continually, though naturally not in competitions or road races but just all about the countryside, in both fair weather and foul. It brought me not a trace of schoolboy glory, though it did at times alleviate my fury at being so awful at everything else.

#Telemachus #Jim Shepard #a text post

Why is ink like a fire? Because it is a good servant and a hard master.

#the world to come #jim Shepard #a text post

"I do not require to become familiar with a Man's Writings in order to estimate the Superficiality of his Attainments, when he plainly shews it by his Eagerness to mention his own Productions in the first first Question he puts to me." -Dr. Samuel Johnson

#a reminiscence of Dr. Samuel Johnson #H.P. Lovecraft #a text post

The sun was blazing down from a sky which seemed to me almost black in its cloudless cruelty; as though reflecting the inky marsh beneath my feet.

Dagon

#dagon #H.P. Lovecraft

megairea

“It was in mid-summer, when the alchemy of Nature transmutes the sylvan landscape to one vivid and almost homogeneous mass of green; when the senses are well-nigh intoxicated with the surging seas of moist verdure and the subtly indefinable odours of the soil and the vegetation. In such surroundings the mind loses its perspective; time and space become trivial and unreal, and echoes of a forgotten prehistoric past beat insistently upon the enthralled consciousness. All day I had been wandering through the mystic groves of the hollow; thinking thoughts I need not discuss, and conversing with things I need not name.”

— H.P. Lovecraft, The Tomb, 1917.

#h.p. lovecraft #the tomb

Stop wondering, honored father, that I stole secretly away from you as if no friendship existed between us, or as if I had been ungrateful enough to root out of my heart all remembrance of your great kindness to me, or let a rough north wind blow away my love for you. Indeed it is not so, although my actions may lead you to suppose this.

I have certainly left--that I must confess, and yet I have not gone away, for the best part of me, at all times, remains with you.

Martin Luther, letter to John Braun, March 17, 1509

#martin luther #letters of martin luther #Margaret A. Currie

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