sea-born

& sea-doomed

[voirlvmer]

We talk so much of  light, please let me speak on behalf of  the good dark. Let us talk more of how dark the beginning of a day is.

Maggie Smith, from “How Dark the Beginning”

[pmamtraveller]

Ana Teresa Barboza

[thirdity]

“We often hear it said that it is the task of art to express the inexpressible: it is the contrary which must be said (with no intention of paradox): the whole task of art is to unexpress the expressible, to kidnap from the world’s language, which is the poor and powerful language of the passion, another speech, an exact speech.”

— Roland Barthes, Critical Essays

[banji-effect]

Barbara Kruger, Untitled (Questions), 1991

[girlfictions]

Ada Limón, from The Other Wish

[lucidloving]

Joan Didion, We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live // Carlos Fuentes // Tim O'Brien // Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried // Imtiaz Dharker, "Tissue" // Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind // Doctor Who (2010) // Brandon Sanderson, Yumi and the Nightmare Painter // Sing Shong, Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint // @jomeimei421

[derangedrhythms]

I flew from my body, rid myself of my cage of bones;

Hafez, Modern Poetry in Translation: One Thousand Suns; from '403', tr. Mario Petrucci

[papenathys]

Absolutely insane lines to just drop in the middle of an academic text btw. Feeling so normal about this.

[ A Critical History of English Literature, Vol. 1, Prof. David Daiches, first published in 1960 ]

[petaltexturedskies]

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals

[mothprincess]

Mary Oliver, Orion

[deboracabral]

from this post

happy new year friends

[beguines]

Jeff Hardin, from "To Ask May Be the Only Answer", A Clearing Space in the Middle of Being

[beguines]

Kathleen Graber, from "America [flight]", The River Twice

[geryone]

Fierce Elegy, Peter Gizzi

[crucifiedlovers]

What do you suppose night is? Night is when all things are in harmony. By day light and shadow war, but with nightfall the night inside the house holds hands with the night outside the house. They are the same thing. The night air is party to the conspiracy. Hate and thing join hands love, pain and joy: everything and any in the night air.

Yukio Mishima, "The Lady Aoi" from Five Modern Noh Plays (trans. Donald Keene)

[letterful]

oh i am unwell

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Jennifer S. Cheng, So We Must Meet Apart