I learned love as taxidermy, the careful art of keeping alive a dead thing.
Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak (via buttonpoetry)
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@porque-soy-vil
I learned love as taxidermy, the careful art of keeping alive a dead thing.
Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak (via buttonpoetry)
I don’t have a train of thought I have seven trains on 4 tracks that narrowly avoid each other when the paths cross and all the conductors are screaming
You’re told that you’re in your head too much, a phrase that’s often deployed against the quiet and cerebral. Or maybe there’s another word for such people: thinkers.
Susan Cain, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking (via fyp-psychology)
Music, I think, he makes me feel like music.
Lauren Oliver (via wnq-writers)
If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.
Jane Austen, Emma (via wnq-writers)
I love you more than words. And I am a big fan of words.
Joe Dunthorne, Submarine (via wordsnquotes)
…Years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute.
Edgar Allan Poe, “To M–” (via wordsnquotes)
There were girls who would tear you apart with their lips.
F. Scott Fitzgerald (via quotemadness)
Grab your coat, leave a note, and run away with me.
William Chapman (via wordsnquotes)
Love is the same as being lost. Except you don’t care that you’re lost.
Jedediah Berry, The Coyote Road: Trickster Tales. (via wordsnquotes)
There isn’t enough of anything as long as we live. But at intervals a sweetness appears and, given a chance, prevails.
Raymond Carver, from “The Author of Her Misfortune” (via litverve)
I’ve hated you out loud, but I’ve never quit wanting you silently.
Nouransk (via wnq-writers)
Introverts are collectors of thoughts, and solitude is where the collection is curated and rearranged to make sense of the present and future.
Helgoe, Laurie. “Revenge of the Introvert.“ Psychology Today. (via wordsnquotes)
Read the best books first, or you may not have a chance to read them at all.
Henry David Thoreau, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers
(via
bookmania
)
I learn the waves before the tides.
Aaron Coleman, from St. Trigger
Aaron’s brilliant book is available here!
(via buttonpoetry)
Language, she said, was just our way to explain away the wonder and the glory of the world. To deconstruct. To dismiss. She said people can’t deal with how beautiful the world really is. How it can’t be explained and understood.
Chuck Palahniuk, Choke (via wordsnquotes)
I don’t grasp her, she is extraordinary, or rather I do grasp her but cannot hold her. I run all around her, barking, as a nervous dog might tear around a statue, or to present an equally true but converse picture, I gaze at her as a stuffed animal head mounted on the wall might look down at the person living quietly in his room. Half-truths, a thousandth of the truth.
Franz Kafka, Letter to Max Brod (via kafkaesque-world)