“The history of the world is not written, the history of Europe is”
—Ivan Van Sertimam, Associate Professor, Rutgers University Author of They Came Before Columbus: The African Presence in Early America (via chainlynx)
July 2012
Le Couer Au Bout Des Doigts
Jacqueline Taïeb
jacqueline taïeb: le coeur au bout des doigts
cool
“In a moment we’ll pass across the world’s threshold
into a region—name it as you please:
wilderness, death, disavowal of language,
or maybe simpler: the silence of love…” —
into a region—name it as you please:
wilderness, death, disavowal of language,
or maybe simpler: the silence of love…” —
Vladimir Nabokov, from “The Poets”
(via proustitute)
“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow.”
—Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (via lostsplendor)
Don't Think Twice, It's Alright
Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan- Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright
“Rummaging in our souls, we often dig up something that ought to have lain there unnoticed.”
—Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (via lostsplendor)
God Dies: An Essay By Francis Farmer
Film star Frances Farmer (1913-1970) was a senior at West Seattle High School in April 1931 when she gained her first taste of national notoriety, with this award-winning essay, titled “God Dies.” The essay won first place and a prize of $100 in a contest sponsored by The Scholastic, a magazine for high school students. It also generated considerable outrage, especially from local ministers.
Here is her essay, as published in The Scholastic on May 2, 1931.
No one ever came to me and said, “You’re a fool. There isn’t such a thing as God. Somebody’s been stuffing you.” It wasn’t a murder. I think God just died of old age. And when I realized that he wasn’t any more, it didn’t shock me. It seemed natural and right.
Maybe it was because I was never properly impressed with a religion. I went to Sunday school and liked the stories about Christ and the Christmas star. They were beautiful. They made you warm and happy to think about. But I didn’t believe them. The Sunday School teacher talked too much in the way our grade school teacher used to when she told us about George Washington. Pleasant, pretty stories, but not true.
Religion was too vague. God was different. He was something real, something I could feel. But there were only certain times when I could feel it. I used to lie between cool, clean sheets at night after I’d had a bath, after I had washed my hair and scrubbed my knuckles and finger nails and teeth. Then I could lie quite still in the dark with my face to the window with the trees in it, and talk to God. “I am clean, now. I’ve never been as clean. I’ll never be cleaner.” And somehow, it was God. I wasn’t sure that it was … just something cool and dark and clean.
“In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.”
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (via lostsplendor)
June 2012
“I will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me.” —from Raw with Love, by Charles Bukowski (via wine-loving-vagabond)
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me.” —from Raw with Love, by Charles Bukowski (via wine-loving-vagabond)
“You cannot really be too concerned with what people think of you. You’re on you’re own adventure of growth and discovery. So it’s not always good to be who people think you are, especially if you subscribe to it as well … which is easily done, because then you don’t have to figure out who you are, you just ask somebody else.”
—Tom Waits (via wine-loving-vagabond)
