The First Thing You Ever Did Was Cry.

Still he looked; still he paused. It is these pauses that are our undoing.

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

Death wanted to be this beautiful but we buried it

Garous Abdolmalekian, Sea tr. Ahmed Nadalizadeh and Idra Novey

let yourself be a living part of death

Garous Abdolmalekian, Forest tr. Ahmed Nadalizadeh and Idra Novey

those eyes which looked as if they had been fished from the bottom of the sea

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

the poet paralyzed with fear lying in a hammock on a beautiful day—unhappy man in a happy world—does not suffer any less when he looks around him; he does not cease to suffer, he only ceases to try to understand.

Mary Ruefle, On Fear

burn like a meteor and leave no dust.

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

I take the soil in

my clean fingers and to say

I weep is untrue, weep is too

musical a word. I heave

into the soil. You cannot die.

I just came to this life

again, alive in my silent way.

- Ada Limón, Invasive

Some people are just that good, they have this soldier-saint part of them intact and it takes your breath because you keep forgetting human beings can sometimes be paragons.

Niall Williams, History of the Rain

I was suddenly some safer form of fire.

Ada Limón, What Remains Grows Ravenous

it’s been two days and i’m still obsessed with this answer from céline sciamma about portrait of a lady on fire