#on thought

[tamsoj]

It’s an odd thing, silence. The mind becomes like a starless night; and then a meteor slides, splendid, right across the dark and is extinct. We never give sufficient thanks for this entertainment.

Virginia Woolf, from A Haunted House: The Complete Shorter Fiction, “The Evening Party”

[calyptapis]

Hélène Cixous, First Days of the Year (Translated by Catherine A.F. Macgillivray)

[thethirdbear]

the sun will rise no matter how long the night seems.

unknown

[tamsoj]

I want to think quietly, calmly, spaciously, never to be interrupted, never to have to rise from my chair, to slip easily from one thing to another, without any sense of hostility, or obstacle. I want to sink deeper and deeper, away from the surface, with its hard separate facts.

Virginia Woolf, from A Haunted House: The Complete Shorter Fiction, “The Mark on the Wall”

[tamsoj]

C.G. Jung, from The Red Book; Liber Primus, “Soul and God”  

[tamsoj]

How readily our thoughts swarm upon a new object, lifting it a little way, as ants carry a blade of straw so feverishly, and then leave it...

Virginia Woolf, from A Haunted House: The Complete Shorter Fiction, “The Mark on the Wall”

[tamsoj]

C.G. Jung, from The Red Book; Liber Secundus, “Mysterium. Encounter”