As Far As Words Go, Crying Is Louder And Weeping Is Wetter.

Despair recognizes its own ridiculousness

- Heather Christle, The Crying Book

Remains of colour on temple columns.

FOR RENT: / an empty sky

- Agata Tuszyńska, Classified Ads tr. Regina Grol

He just cried on, this hopeless hard retching as if the tears were shards and each one cut as it came out.

Niall Williams, History of the Rain

One realizes that human relationships are the tragic necessity of human life; that they can never be wholly satisfactory, that every ego is half the time greedily seeking them, and half the time pulling away from them.

Willa Cather, Not Under Forty

I believe in ending sentences with a preposition in order to give the ideas a way out.

- Heather Christle, The Crying Book

we write, not with the fingers, but with the whole person.

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

There is a solitude in this world

I cannot pierce. I would die for it.

- Ada Limón, Drowning Creek

theories which isolate art and its appreciation by placing them in a realm of their own, disconnected from other modes of experiencing, are not inherent in the subject-matter, but arise because of specifiable extraneous conditions. […] Theory can start with and from acknowledged works of art only when the esthetic is already compartmentalized, or only when works of art are set in a niche apart instead of being celebrations, recognized as such, of the things of ordinary experience. Even a crude experience, if authentically an experience, is more fit to give a clue to the intrinsic nature of esthetic experience than is an object already set apart from any other mode of experience.

- John Dewey, Art as Experience

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