chilled legumes

|= handsome pigeons + giant robots + literary quotations + misc. nonsense     »» about »» ask »» archive »» [!]

[gianluc30]

Street Artist Transforms Ordinary Public Places Into Funny Installations 

michael-pederson miguel-marquez

[adrasteiax]

“(…) I want something else. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it’s drenched in sunlight and it’s weightless and I know it’s not cheap. Probably not even real.”

— Mark Z. Danielewski, from House Of Leaves

[80sanime]

[antigonick]

“And it was Death itself who stood behind me, with his arms wrapped around me as tight as iron bands, and his lipless mouth kissing my neck as if in love. But as well as the horror, I felt a strange longing.”

— Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace

[okfhnasfjnoajnj]

[macrolit]

“… we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.”

— 1Q84, Haruki Murakami

[over-world]

[luthienne]

“Feeling? There is nothing to feel. Except this longing…”

— Clarice Lispector, from An Apprenticeship, or The Book of Delights

[kiarakirara-deactivated20210908]

[liberatingreality]

“Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”

— Oscar Wilde

[scaberiko-deactivated20221231]

[intellectualpoaching]

“Words are never ‘only words’; they matter because they define the contours of what we can do.”

— Slavoj Žižek, First as Tragedy, Then as Farce

[mattyvogel-deactivated20211026]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“I have clung / To nothing, loved a nothing, nothing seen / Or felt but a great dream.”

— John Keats, from The Complete Poems and Selected Letters; “Endymion,”

[plato5]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

My most beautiful hiding places, / places that best fit my soul’s deepest colors, / are made of all that others forgot.

Olga Orozco, tr. by Elaine Stirling, from “Ballad of Forgotten Places,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[thisobscuredesireforbeauty]