The Darkness Was More Compassionate To His Swollen And Violent Heart.

A picture lives by companionship, expanding and quickening in the eyes of the sensitive observer. It dies by the same token.

Mark Rothko, Statement

the body is and is and is and has no place to go.

Wisława Szymborska, Tortures tr. Regina Grol

Seam: ‘Interviewer’s Note IV’ by Tarfia Faizullah

in 2005, bon iver locked himself in a log cabin in wisconsin for a now-legendary vibe check

'I'll go.' But he doesn't go. He uses the future not the present tense

Niall Williams, History of the Rain

“You want to know what it was like? It was like my whole life had a fever. Whole acres of me were on fire. The sun talked dirty in my ear all night. I couldn’t drive past a wheatfield without doing it violence. I couldn’t even look at a bridge. I used to go out in the brush sometimes, So far out there no one could hear me, And just burn. I felt all right then. I couldn’t hurt anyone else. I was just a pillar of fire. It wasn’t the burning so much as the loneliness. It wasn’t the loneliness so much as the fear of being alone. Christ look at you pouring from the rocks. You’re so cold you’re boiling over. You’ve got stars in your hair. I don’t want to be around you. I don’t want to drink you in. I want to walk into the heart of you And never walk back out.”

— Nico Alvarado, “Tim Riggins Speaks of Waterfalls” (via cannedheaven)

It is a mistake therefore to compare someone writing about his own life to an exhibitionist, since the latter has only one desire: to show himself and be seen at the same time.

Annie Ernaux, Simple Passion

I fear that to write so much about crying will tempt a universal law of irony to invite tragedy into my life.

- Heather Christle, The Crying Book

I often see how you sob over what you destroy, how you want to stop, and then a moment later you are at it again with a knife, like a surgeon.

Anaïs Nin, Henry and June

Every moon will be a moon of surrender

Ada Limón, The Noisiness of Sleep