March 2012
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“We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension,...”
– Anaïs Nin (via fernsandmoss)
The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume 4. 1944-1947
February 2012
5 posts
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“The thing about patriarchy is that individual men, gay and straight, are often...”
– (via lasluchasdelcorazon)
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December 2011
3 posts
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“the jar returns to the well until it breaks.”
—le havre (2011)
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November 2011
1 post
wildernesses:
it’s so precious that anything should happen at all
July 2011
1 post
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April 2011
5 posts
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(into which i go alone)
” I know it now. I have been humanly the least lonely of women, surrounded by family, parents, brothers, friends, the tenderness of Hugo and his sensibility, the genius of Henry, everything. But there is a world into which I go alone, a Tibetan desert. It is not Henry’s Tibet, either. Henry takes the wisdom of it, but few of the ‘states’ and alternately, not continuously. I...
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“And yet does it not all come again to the fact that it is a man’s world? For if...”
– Sylvia Plath (The Journals of Sylvia Plath pp. 29-30)
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THE IMMINENT GOVERNMENT SHUTDOWN (fewer than 12...
This is an excerpt from NPR’s latest reports on the budget situation in Washington:
“Boehner spoke briefly Friday morning, saying, “There’s only one reason that we don’t have an agreement as yet, and that issue is spending.
But Reid called it a battle over ideology.
“The debate has nothing to do with the number — it has everything to do with ...
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“In the world of the dreamer there was solitude: all the exaltations and joys...”
– Anaïs Nin, “Children of the Albatross” (1947)
March 2011
0 posts
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February 2011
11 posts
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Watchsaturday comes, sunday comes.
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just like honey
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“We are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be,...”
– Joan Didion (via libraryland)
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vagina fact:
the clitoris is pure in purpose. it is the only organ in the body designed purely for pleasure. the clitoris is simply a bundle of nerves: 8,000 nerve fibers, to be precise. that’s a higher concentration of nerve fibers than is found anywhere else in the body, including the fingertips, lips, and tongue, and it is TWICE the number in the penis.
from natalie angier’s “woman: an...
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from Henry Miller's "Black Spring."
one passes imperceptibly from one scene, one age, one life to another. suddenly walking down a street, be it real or be it a dream, one realizes for the first time that the years have flown, that all this has passed forever and will live on only in memory; and then the memory turns inward with a strange, clutching brilliance and one goes over these scenes and incidents perpetually, in dream and...
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“there are writers who drink the absolute like water; and books in which even the...”
– fragment #54, schlegel.
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“…and the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than...”
– Anaïs Nin (via libraries)
January 2011
11 posts
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from marilynne robinson's "housekeeping."
in a month those flowers would bloom. in a month all dormant life and arrested decay would begin again. in a month she would not mourn, because in that season it had never seemed to her that they were married, she and the silent methodist edmund who wore a necktie and suspenders even to hunt wildflowers, and who remembered just where they grew from year to year, and who dipped his handkerchief in...
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from : "a spy in the house of love"
They fled from the eyes of the world, the singer’s prophetic, harsh, ovarian prologues. Down the rusty bars of ladders to the undergrounds of the night propitious to the first man and woman at the beginning of the world, where there were no words by which to possess each other, no music for serenades, no presents to court with, no tournaments to impress and force a yielding, no secondary...
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from mark jarman's, "the black riviera."
They might dream that they are in love And wake to find they are, That outside their own pumping arteries, Which they can cargo with happiness As they sink in their little bathyspheres, Somebody else’s body pressures theirs With kisses, like bursts of bloody oxygen, Until, stunned, they’re dragged up, Drawn from drowning, saved.
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“the snow doesn’t give a soft white
damn Whom it touches”
– E.E. Cummings, from “XIX”, from Viva (via liquidnight)
November 2010
9 posts
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from owen chase's account of the destruction of...
“i have no language to paint out the horrors of our situation. to shed tears was altogether unavailing, and withal unmanly; and yet i was not able to deny the relief they served to afford me. after several hours of idle sorrow and repining i began to reflect upon the accident, and endeavored to realize by what unaccountable destiny or design, (which i could not at first determine,) this...
May 2010
3 posts
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April 2010
20 posts
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from "going up the river," by joseph hallinan.
“I didn’t say anything, but I, too, had noted the same disjunction. I had read Grady’s record, and the man in the record did not match the man in the cell. Sitting across from him at the reformatory, I couldn’t get his crime out of my mind. He had killed a defenseless old man during a burglary. And no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t square the deed and the man. I...