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‘Worry not’, He said, 'For it matters not’ Men have fought and died for what you’ve got Stronger men have crumbled Weaker men have braved the darkness In the end, he said, what matters Is your courage.
Ode to Fear, Klaus (via livaere)
And do you know what “the world” is to me? Shall I show it to you in my mirror? This world: a monster of energy, without beginning, without end; a firm, iron magnitude of force that does not grow bigger or smaller, that does not expend itself but only transforms itself; as a whole, of unalterable size, a household without expenses or losses, but likewise without increase or income; enclosed by “nothingness” as by a boundary; not something blurry or wasted, not something endlessly extended, but set in a definite space as a definite force, and not a space that might be “empty” here or there, but rather as force throughout, as a play of forces and waves of forces, at the same time one and many, increasing here and at the same time decreasing there; a sea of forces flowing and rushing together, eternally changing, eternally flooding back, with tremendous years of recurrence, with an ebb and a flood of its forms; out of the simplest forms striving toward the most complex, out of the stillest, most rigid, coldest forms striving toward the hottest, most turbulent, most self-contradictory, and then again returning home to the simple out of this abundance, out of the play of contradictions back to the joy of concord, still affirming itself in this uniformity of its courses and its years, blessing itself as that which must return eternally, as a becoming that knows no satiety, no disgust, no weariness: this, my Dionysian world of the eternally self- creating, the eternally self-destroying, this mystery world of the twofold voluptuous delight, my “beyond good and evil,” without goal, unless the joy of the circle is itself a goal; without will, unless a ring feels good will toward itself— do you want a name for this world? A solution for all of its riddles? A light for you, too, you best-concealed, strongest, most intrepid, most midnightly men?— This world is the will to power—and nothing besides! And you yourselves are also this will to power—and nothing besides!
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, The Will to Power (via thusspokefriedrichnietzsche)
A Crack in the Glass
His hands were shaking. He was exhausted, but nightmares kept him awake. His eyes scanned the screen, again and again, his lips parting slightly and his brow furrowing in distress, his inability to understand what he was reading a threat to his fragile peace of mind.
My Master does not ask that I bow my head, He meets me eye to eye. And when we walk together I am not led, Down the twisting path we walk side by side. And when there is ground I fear to tread, He tells me fear is something we all must face, And sends his fire up my spine.
Darling, Dearest Devil (via aint-no-saint-babe)
Natalie Shau
Klaus Horne, Fervour. 2017.
Male study.
Herdwick Ewe and Lamb
by James Rebanks
- mountain spirits see and love you -
Born of the sea
I feel such peace
'Worry not,' He said, 'For it matters not.' Men have fought and died for what you’ve got Stronger men have crumbled Weaker men have braved the darkness In the end, he said, what matters Is your courage.
Ode to Fear, Klaus
My Master does not ask that I bow my head, He meets me eye to eye. And when we walk together I am not led, Down the twisting path we walk side by side. And when there is ground I fear to tread, He tells me fear is something we all must face, And sends his fire up my spine.
Darling, Dearest Devil (via aint-no-saint-babe)
Natalie Shau