May 2013
Silence is so accurate.
– Mark Rothko (via apoetreflects)
Trying to squeeze in time to paint after work is frustrating. Three days of simply priming and sanding a canvas. I want to get to the good stuff. Hooray three day weekend
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.
– Anna Akhmatova, You Will Hear Thunder, trans. D. M. Thomas (via proustitute)
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I suppose it’s a comfort, perhaps a sense of self-control, doing worse damage to...
– Chuck Palahniuk (via allegorys)
Everything is energy and that’s all there is to it. Match the frequency of the...
– ~Albert Einstein (via iheartloons)
Know then that the body is merely a garment. Go seek the wearer, not the cloak.
– Rumi (via vijara)
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As...
– Edgar Allan Poe, The Collected Poetry of Edgar Allan Poe (via itsfromabook)
As men, we are all equal in the presence of death.
– Publilius Syrus (via quotedojo)
So much that can neither be written nor kept inside
– Tomas Tranströmer’s cry into the Nordic night + (via mythologyofblue)
“My teacher called this world “the great heartbreak.” When we really begin to...
– parkstepp (via parkstepp)
Within the souls of the awkward and the overlooked often burns something...
– Jo Ann Beard (via jaded-mandarin)
I would like to house my spirit within my body, to nourish my virtue by...
– T’u Lung (T’u Ch’ihshui) translated by Lin Yutang, The Travels of Mingliaotse. Courtesy of Whiskey River. (via crashinglybeautiful)
Do not the most moving moments of our lives find us all without words
– Marcel Marceau (via quotedojo)
The man who makes no mistakes does not usually make anything.
– Edward Phelps (via quotedojo)
Let no one be willing to speak ill of the absent.
– Sextus Propertius (via quotedojo)
That’s what art does, that’s what it’s for — to show you that what you think can...
– A fine addition to history’s finest definitions of art from Greil Marcus’s fantastic 2013 SVA commencement address on how the division of high vs. low robs art of its essence. (via explore-blog)
To lick his life like barley sugar, to shape it, sharpen it, love it at...
– Albert Camus, from A Happy Death (via aneonlion)
He desired her vaguely but without conviction. They walked together. He suddenly...
– Albert Camus, A Happy Death (via fakestalive)