Metamorphosis

Nec vincere possis flumina, si contra quam rapit unda nates.

[pulpkoki]

"He thought he knew me. Well, he knows me as well as anyone in the world knows me. I don’t know myself. I know my appetites, as the French say. They want that dirty ice cream, that they do know for certain," she thought, looking at two boys stopping an ice cream seller, who took a barrel off his head and began wiping his perspiring face with a towel.

Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy

[pulpkoki]

"When he woke up, the dinosaur was still there"

Augusto Monterroso

[pulpkoki]

Denn alle Lust will Ewigkeit

Nietsche

[pulpkoki]

To sleep, to dream, to keep the dream in reach. To each a dream. Don’t weep, don’t scream. Just keep it in, Keep sleeping in.

Kate Tempest

[pulpkoki]

[pulpkoki]

I saw you who was myself slightly stooped whistling mouth with leather sack and breeches brown striding the naked countryside with summer bones long and dry into the breadth of our glad day mid afternoon the longer night as you tread bareheaded bright I saw you a wraith bemoan stir the fires of the ancient ones scarred with sticks pome and haw as the nectar for their script I saw you walk the length of fields far as the finger of Providence far as the mounds we call hills ranges cut from the heard of slate I saw you dip into your sack scattering seeds where they may as the woodsman hews his way through oak ash and variant pines

The Lovecrafter, Auguries of Innocence, Patti Smith

[pulpkoki]

[pulpkoki]

Long ago were paths to the past closed, And what shall I do with past, at all? What is there?  Just washed with blood flat stones, Or the door, immured in a wall. Or the echo, that all time me worries, Tho’ I pray it to be silent, hard… To this echo happened the same story, That – to one, I bear in my heart.

Anna Akhmatova, The Echo

[pulpkoki]

[pulpkoki]

[pulpkoki]

Obviously. I am not for the war on drugs. Even though it's the name of my band

The War on Drugs’ Adam Granduciel

[pulpkoki]

Odiamo il conformismo degli altri perché è questo che ci trattiene dall'interessarci al nostro. Ognuno di noi odia nell'altro come in un lager il proprio destino.

Pier Paolo Pasolini

[pulpkoki]

me: *writes adult email*

me: *hits send while screaming loudly*

[pulpkoki]

And at last you saw yourself as a fruit, you stepped / out of your clothes and brought your naked body / before the mirror, you let yourself inside / down to your gaze; which stayed in front, immense, / and didn’t say: I am that; no: this is.

Rilke, “Requiem for a Friend”

[pulpkoki]

Paula Modersohn Becker, Self-portrait (1906)

[pulpkoki]

In preda alla disperazione, Schilling disse: "E cosa dovrei fare con lei, allora? Non posso fargliela piacere." Lei lo sguardò con occhietto furbo. "A lei piace?" "No" ammise. "Gli esperimenti puramenti sonori non mi interessano." "Cosa le piace, allora?" "Sono un collezionista di musica vocale. Mi interessano i lieder." "Ma vende questa roba." Riprese a spolverare. "Crede veramente che la musica sia importante?" "Bè," disse Schilling "è tutta la mia vita." "Tutta la sua vita?" Il suo sguardo intenso si posò nuovamente su di lui. "Intende dire che per lei niente è più importante della musica?" "Sì, è questo che intendo" disse con impeto bellicoso. Non ci fu alcun commento da parte della ragazza. Sentì quell'affermazione e la registrò, archiviandola in qualche posto della sua mente. "Perchè no?" le domandò, andandole dietro mentre spolverava.

Mary e il gigante, Philip K. Dick

[pulpkoki]