August 2011
39 posts
“Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin, dance me through the panic ‘til I’m gathered safely in, lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove and dance me to the end of love, yeah dance me to the end of love.”
—Dance Me To The End Of Love, Leonard Cohen (via good-gollymissmolly)
“I am a dreamer. I know so little of real life that I just can’t help re-living such moments as these in my dreams, for such moments are something I have very rarely experienced. I am going to dream about you the whole night, the whole week, the whole year. I feel I know you so well that I couldn’t have known you better if we’d been friends for twenty years. You won’t fail me, will you? Only two minutes, and you’ve made me happy forever.”
—Fyodor Dostoyevsky (via shesinacoma)
“It was a hard thing to undo this knot.
The rainbow shines, but only in the thought
Of him that looks. Yet not in that alone,
For who makes rainbows by invention?
And many standing round a waterfall
See one bow each, yet not the same to all.
But each a hand’s breadth further than the next.
The sun on falling waters writes the text
Which yet is in the eye or in the thought.
It was a hard thing to undo this knot.” —Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘It was a hard thing to undo this knot’, 1864.
The rainbow shines, but only in the thought
Of him that looks. Yet not in that alone,
For who makes rainbows by invention?
And many standing round a waterfall
See one bow each, yet not the same to all.
But each a hand’s breadth further than the next.
The sun on falling waters writes the text
Which yet is in the eye or in the thought.
It was a hard thing to undo this knot.” —Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘It was a hard thing to undo this knot’, 1864.
“
And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean, and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man,
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye and ear; both what they half create,
And what perceive;
…and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once,
“Isn’t that the way all love affairs run—from dream and cloud-journey to earth-firmness?”
—Leon Edel (via theparisreview)
“
Very little grows
on jagged rock.
Be ground.
Be crumbled,
so wildflowers will come up
where you are.
You’ve been stony for too many years.
Try something different.
Surrender.
“‘Le silence éternel de ces espaces infinis m’effraie.’”
—(The eternal silence of these infinite spaces terrifies me.) — Blaise Pascal (Pensées)
