alisha > alisha's Quotes

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  • #1
    Brom
    “Back, devil! Return thee to Hell!"

    The beast rolled its eyes. "I am not a devil, fool. Do you ever wonder why you seek the Devil with such vigor? I shall tell you. Because you cannot face your own wickedness. The truth is there is no Devil making you torture, rape, murder, and sodomize one another, or making you destroy the very land that feeds you. There is only you. So look at yourself, for you are the only devil in this room.”
    Brom, Krampus: The Yule Lord

  • #2
    Michael Finkel
    “Solitude increased my perception. But here's the tricky thing: when I applied my increased perception to myself, I lost my identity. There was no audience, no one to perform for. There was no need to define myself. I became irrelevant. (I)solation felt more like communion...To put it romantically, I was completely free.”
    Michael Finkel, The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit

  • #3
    Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi
    “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
    Rumi

  • #4
    Florence Scovel Shinn
    “The game of life is a game of boomerangs. Our thoughts, deeds and words return to us sooner or later with astounding accuracy.”
    Florence Scovel Shinn

  • #5
    “I can be feminine in all my rage.
    I can be girl and woman, and claws with teeth.
    Watch me burn.”
    Venetta Octavia

  • #6
    Pauline Albanese
    “Tell them that you weren't hungry, tell them you followed the pomegranates seeds because they tasted like blood, like love.”
    Pauline Albanese, The Closed Doors

  • #7
    Sylvia Plath
    “I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #8
    Sylvia Plath
    “I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
    I lift my lids and all is born again.
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #9
    Sylvia Plath
    “Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #10
    Sylvia Plath
    “I desire the things which will destroy me in the end.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #11
    Sylvia Plath
    “God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long. Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship - but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #12
    Michael Finkel
    “I think that most of us feel like something is missing from our lives. And I wondered then if Knight's journey was to seek it. But life isn't about searching endlessly to find what's missing. It's about learning to live with the missing parts.”
    Michael Finkel, The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit

  • #13
    Michael Finkel
    “He was confounded by the idea that passing the prime of your life in a cubicle, spending hours a day at a computer, in exchange for money, was considered acceptable, but relaxing in a tent in the woods was disturbed. Observing the trees was indolent; cutting them down was enterprising. What did Knight do for a living? He lived for a living. Knight”
    Michael Finkel, The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit

  • #14
    Sylvia Plath
    “Dying
    Is an art, like everything else.
    I do it exceptionally well.
    I do it so it feels like hell.
    I do it so it feels real.
    I guess you could say I have a call.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #15
    Nikita Gill
    “Remember what you must do
    when they undervalue you,
    when they think
    your softness is your weakness,
    when they treat your kindness
    like it is their advantage.

    You awaken
    every dragon,
    every wolf,
    every monster
    that sleeps inside of you
    and you remind them
    what hell looks like
    when it wears the skin
    of a gentle human.”
    Nikita Gill, Wild Embers: Poems of Rebellion, Fire and Beauty
    tags: fire

  • #16
    Nikita Gill
    “Some girls are full of heartache and poetry and those are the kind of girls who try to save wolves instead of running away from them.”
    Nikita Gill, Your Body is an Ocean: Love and Other Experiments

  • #17
    Nikita Gill
    “Your heart will fix itself. It’s your mind you need to worry about. Your mind where you locked the memories, your mind where you have kept pieces of the ones that hurt you, that still cut through you like shards of glass. Your mind will keep you up at night, make you cry, destroy you over and over again. You need to convince your mind that it has to let go…because your heart already knows how to heal.”
    Nikita Gill

  • #18
    Nikita Gill
    “It is eerily terrifying that there is no sound when a heart breaks. Car accidents end with a bang, falling ends with a thud, even writing makes the scratching sound of pencil against paper. But the sound of a heart breaking is completely silent. Almost as though no one, not even the universe itself could create a sound for such devastation. Almost as though silence is the only way the universe could pay its respect to the sound of a heart falling apart.”
    Nikita Gill

  • #19
    Sylvia Plath
    “LADY LAZARUS

    I have done it again.
    One year in every ten
    I manage it--

    A sort of walking miracle, my skin
    Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
    My right foot

    A paperweight,
    My face a featureless, fine
    Jew linen.

    Peel off the napkin
    O my enemy.
    Do I terrify?--

    The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
    The sour breath
    Will vanish in a day.

    Soon, soon the flesh
    The grave cave ate will be
    At home on me

    And I a smiling woman.
    I am only thirty.
    And like the cat I have nine times to die.

    This is Number Three.
    What a trash
    To annihilate each decade.

    What a million filaments.
    The peanut-crunching crowd
    Shoves in to see

    Them unwrap me hand and foot--
    The big strip tease.
    Gentlemen, ladies

    These are my hands
    My knees.
    I may be skin and bone,

    Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
    The first time it happened I was ten.
    It was an accident.

    The second time I meant
    To last it out and not come back at all.
    I rocked shut

    As a seashell.
    They had to call and call
    And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

    Dying
    Is an art, like everything else.
    I do it exceptionally well.

    I do it so it feels like hell.
    I do it so it feels real.
    I guess you could say I've a call.

    It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
    It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
    It's the theatrical

    Comeback in broad day
    To the same place, the same face, the same brute
    Amused shout:

    'A miracle!'
    That knocks me out.
    There is a charge

    For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
    For the hearing of my heart--
    It really goes.

    And there is a charge, a very large charge
    For a word or a touch
    Or a bit of blood

    Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
    So, so, Herr Doktor.
    So, Herr Enemy.

    I am your opus,
    I am your valuable,
    The pure gold baby

    That melts to a shriek.
    I turn and burn.
    Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

    Ash, ash--
    You poke and stir.
    Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

    A cake of soap,
    A wedding ring,
    A gold filling.

    Herr God, Herr Lucifer
    Beware
    Beware.

    Out of the ash
    I rise with my red hair
    And I eat men like air.

    -- written 23-29 October 1962”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel



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