Julia G. > Julia's Quotes

“There is always something missing that torments me.”
― Camille Claudel

“I have fallen into an abyss. I live in a world so curious, so strange. Of the dream that was my life, this is my nightmare.”
― Camille Claudel

“The inner fire is the most important thing mankind possesses.”
― Edith Södergran

“I am no woman. I am a neuter.
I am a child, a page-boy, and a bold decision,
I am a laughing glimpse of a burning sun

I am a net for all voracious fish,
I am a toast to every woman’s honor,
I am a step toward chance and disaster,
I am a leap in freedom and the self

I am the blood’s whisper in a man’s ear,
I am the soul’s shiver, the flesh’s longing and denial,
I am an entry sign to new paradises

I am a flame, seeking and jolly,
I am a water, deep, but daring up to the knees,
I am fire and water, in sincere context, on free term”
― edith södergran

“Now that the bad weather had come, we could leave Paris for a while for a place where this rain would be snow coming down through the pines and covering the road and the high hillsides and at an altitude where we would hear it creak as we walked home at night. Below Les Avants there was a chalet where the pension was wonderful and where we would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright. That was where we could go.”
― Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

“The purple butterflies fluttered about with gold dust on their wings, visiting each flower in turn; the little lizards crept out of the crevices of the wall, and lay basking in the white glare; and the pomegranates split and cracked with the heat, and showed their bleeding red hearts. Even the pale yellow lemons, that hung in such profusion from the mouldering trellis and along the dim arcades, seemed to have caught a richer colour from the wonderful sunlight, and the magnolia trees opened their great globe-like blossoms of folded ivory, and filled the air with a sweet heavy perfume.”
― Oscar Wilde, The Birthday of the Infanta

“It wasn’t my day. My week. My month. My year. My life. God damn it.”
― Charles Bukowski, Pulp: Charles Bukowski's Final Hardboiled Noir Comedy – Lady Death, Aliens, and the Absurd

“From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them, and that is eternity.”
― Edvard Munch

“From the moment of my birth, the angels of anxiety, worry, and death stood at my side, followed me out when I played, followed me in the sun of springtime and in the glories of summer. They stood at my side in the evening when I closed my eyes, and intimidated me with death, hell, and eternal damnation. And I would often wake up at night and stare widely into the room: Am I in Hell?”
― Edvard Munch

“I was walking along a path with two friends – the sun was setting – suddenly the sky turned blood red – I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence – there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city – my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety – and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature.”
― Edvard Munch

“No longer shall I paint interiors with men reading and women knitting. I will paint living people who breathe and feel and suffer and love.”
― Edvard Munch

“Dylan and Leonard Cohen and Patti Smith, all dark, all romantic. When I say “romantic,” I mean a sensibility that sees everything, and has to express everything, and still doesn’t know what the fuck it is, it hurts that bad. It just madly tries to speak whatever it feels, and that can mean vast things. That sort of mentality can turn a sun-kissed orange into a flaming meteorite, and make it sound like that in a song.”
― Jeff Buckley