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Letters to a Youn...
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  (page 52 of 80)
"‘must I write?" Sep 29, 2013 05:27PM

 
The Curious Incid...
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Steal Like an Art...
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Anaïs Nin
“Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous. I want to be a writer who reminds others that these moments exist; I want to prove that there is infinite space, infinite meaning, infinite dimension. But I am not always in what I call a state of grace. I have days of illuminations and fevers. I have days when the music in my head stops. Then I mend socks, prune trees, can fruits, polish furniture. But while I am doing this I feel I am not living.”
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

Tao Lin
“You were one person alive and your brain was encased in a skull. There were other people out there. It took effort to be connected.”
Tao Lin, Bed

Anaïs Nin
“I disregard the proportions, the measures, the tempo of the ordinary world. I refuse to live in the ordinary world as ordinary women. To enter ordinary relationships. I want ecstasy. I am a neurotic — in the sense that I live in my world. I will not adjust myself to the world. I am adjusted to myself.”
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

Pablo Neruda
“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

Pablo Neruda
“Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this:

where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. ”
Pablo Neruda

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