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Some people,
no matter what you give them,
still want the moon.

The bread,
the salt,
white meat and dark,
still hungry.

The marriage bed
and the cradle,
still empty arms.

You give them land,
their own earth under their feet,
still they take to the roads.

And water: dig them the deepest well,
still it’s not deep enough
to drink the moon from.

— Denise Levertov, Adam’s Complaint (via hellanne)


6:31 pm     505 notes
July 23 2014

I slept little, read a lot, and fell in love frequently.

Charles Simic, on first moving to New York (via theparisreview)

(via brownrosy)


5:41 pm     2,180 notes
July 22 2014

She survived whatever happened;
she forgave; she became.

W.H. Auden, “The Model” (via wordsnquotes)

(via lifeinpoetry)


2:32 pm     2,507 notes
July 21 2014

(via pizzadyse)


2:21 pm      17,360 notes
July 21 2014

untrustyou:

Daehyun Kim 
Be(a)cause of you, 2014

untrustyou:

Daehyun Kim 

Be(a)cause of you, 2014

(via mfjr)


1:44 pm      39,329 notes
July 21 2014

You’ve been away, your hair blond from sun—
not seeing you serves
the opposite effect,
distance gives over to intimacy.
The wake from a boat. The city anchored
across the river, a series of shadows.
I crumple the paper from an ice cream cone.
Your hand rests on the iron arm of the bench.
Is this what the end
affords—no further use for worry?
It’s getting dark earlier again;
there won’t be many more days as mild as this.
Let’s sit here a little while more.

— David Semanki, from “East River.”


8:37 am
July 20 2014

My dear,
In the midst of hate I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.

Truly yours,
Albert Camus

— Albert Camus (via niet-zsche)

(Source: taking-back-taylor, via brownrosy)


10:16 pm     1,306 notes
July 18 2014

There is a word from the time of the cathedrals: agape, an expression of intense spiritual affinity with the mystery that is ‘to be sharing with another life’. Agape is love, and it can mean ‘the love of another for the sake of God’. More broadly and essentially it is a humble impassioned embrace of something outside the self, in the name of that which we refer to as God, but which also includes the self and is God

Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams (London: Picador, 1986)


12:35 pm
July 18 2014


12:39 am      13,262 notes
July 18 2014

workman:

le-plus-beau-des-mensonges:

RODIN & BAUDELAIRE

Illustrations for Charles Baudelaire’s 'Les Fleurs du Mal', 1887-88

Pen and brown ink, brown ink wash, on pages from a copy of the original edition of ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’ (Paris, Poulet-Malassis et de Broise, 1857)

This copy of the original edition of 1857 belonged to the book lover and publisher Paul Gallimard. The architect and art critic Frantz Jourdain used his influence to obtain the commission to illustrate it for Rodin. The brown leather binding was made by Henri Marius Michel. Represented in demi-relief on the front cover, in incised, mosaiced leather, is an ivory skull on a dark green thistle plant.

Rodin, whose fondness for poetry and Baudelaire is well known,worked on this project for barely four months, in late 1887 and early 1888. His line drawings, sometimes heavily shaded, with hatched backgrounds and five washes on Japan paper, heavy with ink and gouache, would subsequently be inserted into the pages. Specially designed for the book or inspired by earlier sketches made for The Gates of Hell, these drawings appeared on the frontispiece and occasionally invaded the poems. (via Musée Rodin)

(via brownrosy)


5:24 pm     968 notes
July 17 2014

s.t.