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Elliott Erwitt, Jacksonville, Florida, 1968

“That’s why I’m not to be trusted.
Because a wound to the heart
is also a wound to the mind.”

Louise Gluck, From The Untrustworthy Speaker



“I meant for this poem to glow in the dark like one of those
old statues of saints my father kept on the dashboard
to guide the way.
But aren’t we always lost?”

Richard Jackson, from “While You Were Away,” Out of Place: Poems (The Ashland Poetry Press, 2014)


Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?

— Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart. (Vintage, 2002)

“…it’s not quite right,
it’s hardly right at all.”

Charles Bukowski, from Cut While Shaving (via violentwavesofemotion)

“Men always want to be a woman’s first love. That is their clumsy vanity. We women have a more subtle instinct about things. What we like is to be a man’s last romance.”

Oscar Wilde, Mrs. Allomby, A Woman of No Importance (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)


(via Lambert)

“Do you know how much thinking and feeling I’ve done? It’s terrible. And nothing’s come of it.”

Platonov, AndreiHappy Moscow  (via splitterherzen)

“The barrette is still here,
near the temples. Everything has been
what it has been,
the silence on the pillow
echoes this. We ask for
a year of complete light, a flight
that traces on high
the same earthly scene. But nothing
is nothing and the thorns are always
pricking into us more deeply.”

Milo de Angelis, The Siege’s Ending (tr. by Susan Stewart and Patrizio Ceccagnoli)

“I wrote the words that lately
I wouldn’t dare to speak.”

Anna Akhmatova, from I Wrote The Words That Lately […] (via violentwavesofemotion)

“Consider me still in love
Consider me still — with you.”

Vera Pavlova, from Consider Me Deaf And Dumb (via violentwavesofemotion)

“Tell me our story: are we impetuous,
are we kind to each other, do we surrender
to what the mind cannot think past?
Where is the evidence I will learn
to be good at loving?”

Stacie Cassarino, from “Summer Solstice” (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

“Oh well, I am awkward with people.”

Anne Sexton, from A Self-Portrait In Letters (via violentwavesofemotion)


I would like to be able to breathe— to be able to love her by memory or fidelity. But my heart aches. I love you continuously, intensely.

―Albert Camus, Notebooks 1951-1959. ( Ivan R. Dee Publisher, 2008)