November 2011
83 posts
“‘You are in a melancholy humour and fancy that anyone unlike yourself must be happy. But remember that the pain of parting from friends will be felt by everybody at times, whatever be their education or state. Know your own happiness. You want nothing but patience; or give it a more fascinating name: call it hope.’”
-Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility
Probably the cutest proposal ever. →
A conversation with Boyfriend
Me: Do you have a secret name for your dick? Him: I’m not a homosexual who loves dicks so much that he named his own. Me: Good. A+ answer. Him: Why? Me: Jess was reading me Texts from Last Night, one included a named dick. We wanted to know if that was actually a thing guys do. Him: Oops. Me: Oops what? Him: It did have a name. My friends and I decided to name them after the Four Horsemen of...
Dorianne Laux, "A Short History of the Apple"
“The crunch is the thing, a certain joy in crashing through living tissue, a memory of Neanderthal days.” —Edward Bunyard, The Anatomy of Dessert, 1929
Teeth at the skin. Anticipation. Then flesh. Grain on the tongue. Eve’s knees ground in the dirt of paradise. Newton watching gravity happen. The history of apples in each starry core, every papery chamber’s bright...
Being Alive (from "Company")
Someone to hold you too close, Someone to hurt you too deep, Someone to sit in your chair, To ruin your sleep… Someone to need you too much, Someone to know you too well, Someone to pull you up short And put you through hell… Someone you have to let in, Someone whose feelings you spare, Someone who, like it or not, Will want you to share a little, a lot. Someone to crowd you with love,...
I seriously wonder sometimes if 98% of the people...
“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought,...”
– FRIDA KAHLO (via danceabletragedy)
Robert Bringhurst, "These Poems, She Said"
These poems, these poems, these poems, she said, are poems with no love in them. These are the poems of a man who would leave his wife and child because they made noise in his study. These are the poems of a man who would murder his mother to claim the inheritance. These are the poems of a man like Plato, she said, meaning something I did not comprehend but which nevertheless...
The Doors cover of "Reading Rainbow" theme song... →
“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swaps...”
– Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged (via ventriloquistic)
This book. <3 