“So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my loneliness, in the blue-silver of the cold moon, shining brilliantly on the drifts of fresh-fallen snow, with the myriad sparkles. I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepting my being. And does not smite me down.”
—Sylvia Plath, from “Cambridge Notes,” in Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams (Harper Perennial Modern Classics, 2008)
(Source: theburnthatkeepseverything)
The dream, the lure, is the prayer’s answer,
which can’t be plotted on any chart—
as we know the world that’s coming together
without our knowing is falling apart.
—Peter Cole, closing lines to “Song of the Shattering Vessels,” from Poetry (v. CCII, no. 2, May 2013)
“Our bodies are something more than the cage for our minds. Our bodies are the vehicles for self expression.”
—Julia Cameron, from The Right to Write (Tarcher, 1998)
(Source: mypassionpluspurpose)
“The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.”
—Aristotle
(Source: artchipel)
“Everyone’s creative acts, whatever they may be, make constructive form out of the apparent formlessness of our lives.”
—Rollo May
“And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter—they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.”
—Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (San Val, 2000)
(Source: larmoyante)
Photograph: Strolling Along the Tracks, 1912 (photographer not given)
“As usual, I was thinking about the moments of the past, letting my memory rush over them like water rushing over the stones on the bottom of a stream. I was even thinking a little about the future, that place where people are doing a dance we cannot imagine, a dance whose name we can only guess.”
—Billy Collins, from “Nostalgia” in Questions about Angels (University of Pittsburg Press, 1991)
(Source: proustitute)
“What you remember saves you.”
― W. S. Merwin