“I want men to admire me, but that's a trick you learn at school--a movement of the eyes, a tone of voice, a touch of the hand on the shoulder or the head. If they think you admire them, they will admire you because of your good taste, and when they admire you, you have an illusion for a moment that there's something to admire.”
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
| day fifty-nine |
“In our hearts there is a ruthless dictator, ready to contemplate the misery of a thousand strangers if it will ensure the happiness of the few we love.”
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Yes, I realize this photo is old, but I just found it and felt its nostalgia was appropriate...
Thursday, February 9, 2012
| day fifty-eight |
“What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.”
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
| day fifty-seven |
“Give me lust, baby. Flash. Give me malice. Flash. Give me detached existentialist ennui. Flash. Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism.”
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
| day fifty-five |
“Don’t forget, a great impression of simplicity can only be achieved by great agony of body and spirit.”
Sunday, February 5, 2012
| day fifty-four |
“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.”
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Friday, February 3, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
| day fifty-one |
“I believe in love. And beauty. I believe that every single person has something they find beautiful and that they truly love. The smell of their child's hair, the silence of a forest, their lover's crooked grin. Their country, their religion, their family. And I believe that if you follow this love all the way to its end, if you start with the thing you find most beautiful and trace it's perfume back to its essence, you will perceive an intangible presence, a swath of stillness that allows the thing you love to be visible like the openness of the sky reveals the presence of the moon.”
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
| day forty-nine |
“In this play I wrote, a woman appears naked on stage. She has a black square painted on her bare stomach. She tries to convince the gentleman on stage that it is a painting of the two of them in a boat on a lake on a moonless night.This is you paddling from the stern, she says. He sees nothing but a black square. Trees are blowing gently in the wind right below my ribs. She makes a gesture to her ribs and starts crying. Silence fills the stage as he touches the painting with his finger. He gets on his knees to study it. A pirate enters.”
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
| day forty-six |
“I lay for a long time in silence, staring at the ceiling. Was my life always to be like this? I wondered. Was it going to go, forever, in an instant, from sunshine to shadow? From pandemonium to loneliness? From fierce anger to a fiercer kind of love?”
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
| day forty-three |
"...she was the hiss of steam, the clink of a cup, she was a certain hour of the night and the promise of rest."
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
| day forty-two |
"You would never believe this snow; it gets so heavy on our lungs, but it's been creeping up your walls and closing down the roads. But I swear I'm loving while I swear I still hide away from the cold."
Monday, January 23, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
| day thirty-nine |
"In my field of paper flowers and candy clouds of lullaby, I lie inside myself for hours and watch my purple sky fly over me."
Friday, January 20, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
| day thirty-four |
"There's this place in me where your fingerprints still rest, your kisses still linger, and your whispers softly echo. It's the place where a part of you will forever be a part of me."
Friday, January 13, 2012
| day thirty-two |
"And little by little forget about time and its speed, stop the rhythm and go very slowly, slower every time."
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
| day twenty-nine |
“I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de-sacs of shadow. There was shadow in bureau drawers and closets and suitcases, and shadow under houses and trees and stones, and shadow at the back of people's eyes and smiles, and shadow, miles and miles and miles of it, on the night side of the earth.”
Monday, January 9, 2012
| day twenty-eight |
"I was so ready to get out, so ready to taste that ocean, I was willing to put you in harm's way to get there. Nothing should be worth that."
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Friday, January 6, 2012
| day twenty-five |
"But I was sure of something, too: it’s a lot easier to be lost than found. It’s the reason we’re always searching, and rarely discovered — so many locks, not enough keys."
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
| day twenty-two |
"Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black and the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, and watch where the chalk-white arrows go to the place where the sidewalk ends."
Monday, January 2, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
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