February 2012
1 post
“I am drowning in my dream; I do not exist in reality.”
– Mako (ex.deadman)
November 2011
6 posts
“If I place love above everything, it is because for me it is the most desperate,...”
– André Breton
“Everything tends to make us believe that there exists a certain point of the...”
– André Breton (via thirtyeightcents)
“Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny,...”
– Henry Miller (via misswallflower)
October 2011
4 posts
“If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it...”
– Everything is Illuminated, Jonathan Safran Foer
“Soon you give up, don’t look for her anymore, either in the town or at night or...”
– Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
2 tags
“There is in every madman a misunderstood genius whose idea, shining in his head,...”
– Antonin Artaud (via rabastan-le-strange)
July 2011
2 posts
“If you go home with somebody and they don’t have books, don’t fuck them.”
– John Waters (via becomingroux)
“You don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy...”
– Oscar Wilde (via nymphite)
June 2011
2 posts
“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is...”
– Oscar Wilde (via reisend)
May 2011
1 post
“We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.”
– Anaïs Nin (via thresca)
December 2010
1 post
November 2010
1 post
“Yes, I was infatuated with you; I am still. No one has ever heightened such a...”
– Sylvia Plath (via banquets)
August 2010
1 post
July 2010
1 post
“He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful...”
– Jonathan Safran Foer (via loveyourchaos) (via thoughtswithoutwords, asredaspoppies)
June 2010
48 posts
“All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.”
– Andre Breton (via twomonocles)
“A true poet does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent...”
– Jean Cocteau (via hotparade)
“…in that drunken place
you would
like to hand your heart to her
and say...”
– Charles Bukowski (via midnightlights)
“I myself shall continue living in my glass house where you can always see who...”
– André Breton (via deformutation)
“The thing I am most aware of is my limits. And this is natural; for I never, or...”
– André Gide, Journals, 4 August 1930 (via julie911)
OHHEYMARIA is now BONJOURTRISTESSE-
bonjourtristesse-:
Adieu tristesse, Bonjour tristesse. Tu es inscrite dans les lignes du plafond. Tu es inscrite dans les yeux que j’aime. Tu n’es pas tout à fait la misère, Car les lèvres les plus pauvres te dénoncent Par un sourire. Bonjour tristesse. Amour des corps aimables, Puissance de l’amour Dont l’amabilité surgit Comme un monstre sans corps. Tête désappointée, Tristesse, beau visage.
Fragment of Jean Cocteau‘s diary
eternautismos:
Time does not exist. It is a phenomenon of perspective. So we always have time. Impatience is stupidity. Hard for the youth to struggle against it. Then, “the less time one has,“ the more one knows the feeling of having time. Picasso was right. It takes a man a very long time to grow young. I feel younger than when I was young. Feerer, less greedy, less hurried.
eighties-fan:
As The Sparrow, Charles Bukowski
To give life you must take life, and as our grief falls flat and hollow upon the billion-blooded sea I pass upon serious inward-breaking shoals rimmed with white-legged, white-bellied rotting creatures lengthily dead and rioting against surrounding scenes. Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow did to you; I am old when it is...
“After the writer’s death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter.”
– Jean Cocteau- (via ladyparasol)
Between the Moon and the Sun
foundmykeys:
(Paul Eluard)
I tell you gracious and luminous woman
Your nudity licks my childlike eyes
And it is the ecstasy of happy hunters
To have increased a transparent game
Which expands in a vase without water
Like a seed in a shadow of a stone
I see you nude knotted arabesque
Hand slack at each turn of the clock
Sun slow along the length of a day
Plaited rays braids of my...
paumée: « Les auteurs et les livres qui nous ont... →
« Les auteurs et les livres qui nous ont apporté quelque chose ayant répondu à notre curiosité, lorsque celle-ci avait la fraîcheur de la jeunesse, sont des facteurs particuliers qui existent à nos yeux, avec le temps, comme substance même de la connaissance : notre intellect les a tant…
“Because for an artist, everything that happens is material for your work;...”
– A Conversation with Jorge Luis Borges · Habitus (via myserendipities)
Flights To The Sea: Day 19- A passage from a book... →
“On went the cab, jogging through the open firmament. Stars came towards it, splintering the dim shower-whipped windows with fiery particles of light. Suddenly a cry was heard, two plaintive notes. Piercing, human they swelled, inhuman; the pains rattled; the fire brigade went storming by….
“I was struck by the thought that every word I spoke, every expression of my face...”
– Jorge Luis Borges, “Funes” (1942) (via joanapimenta)
beloved
standingonmyeyelids:
She is standing on my eyelids And her hair is wound in mine, She has the form of my hands, She has the colour of my eyes, She is swallowed by my shadow Like a stone against the sky. Her eyes are always open And will not let me sleep. Her dreams in broad daylight Make the suns evaporate Make me laugh, cry and laugh, Speak with nothing to say.
- Paul Eluard
“A film is a petrified fountain of thought.”
– Jean Cocteau (via fuckyeahdirectors)
“No one is anyone, one single immortal man is all men. Like Cornelius Agrippa, I...”
– Jorge Luis Borges, The Immortal (1949) (via bubblemetropolis)
“Mirrors should think longer before they reflect.”
– Jean Cocteau (via tiramisulv)
Alone With Everybody
jesus-was-def:
the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh. there’s no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate. nobody...
“I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart, I am trying...”
– Jorge Luis Borges (via inennui)
“My ambition is handicapped by laziness.”
– Charles Bukowski (via eighties-fan)
“Less and less frequently do we encounter people with the ability to tell a tale...”
– Walter Benjamin “Illuminations” pg 83
Indeed experience has little currency in the contemporary world that privileges the visual. What is taken from the hand is given, again and again, to the eye. Why experience when we can browse photos, watch movies, and consider design aesthetics?
(via...
The prostitute (Walter Benjamin)
hotparade:
The ‘holy prostitution of the soul’ compared with which ‘that which people call love is quite small, quite limited and quite feeble’ [Baudelaire] really can be nothing else than the prostitution of the commodity-soul —if the confrontation with love retains its meaning. Baudelaire refers to ‘that holy prostitution of the soul which gives itself wholly, poetry and charity, to the...
Poe's Mistress: Perhaps my life is nothing but an... →
Perhaps my life is nothing but an image of this kind; perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I should simply recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten… . I myself shall continue living in my glass house…