Sign in with Facebook
More than iron doors, more than walls, it is the tiny peephole that really makes the prisoner feel locked in.
Anya liked this
“what we call fate does not come into us from the outside, but emerges from us. It is only because so many people have not absorbed and transformed their fates while they were living in them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that, in their confusion and fear, they thought it must have entered them at the very moment they became aware of it, for they swore they had never before found anything like that inside them.”
― Letters to a Young Poet
― Letters to a Young Poet
“It's strange. There's your life. You begin it, feeling that it's something so precious and rare, so beautiful that it's like a sacred treasure. Now it's over, and it doesn't make any difference to anyone, and it isn't that they are indifferent, it's just that they don't know, they don't know what it means, that treasure of mine, and there's something about it that they should understand. I don't understand it myself, but there's something that should be understood by all of us. Only what is it? What?”
― We the Living
― We the Living
“I was not a hypocrite, with one real face and several false ones. I had several faces because I was young and didn't know who I was or wanted to be.”
― The Joke
― The Joke
“It seems to me that the desire to make art produces an ongoing experience of longing, a restlessness sometimes, but not inevitably, played out romantically, or sexually. Always there seems something ahead, the next poem or story, visible, at least, apprehensible, but unreachable. To perceive it at all is to be haunted by it; some sound, some tone, becomes a torment — the poem embodying that sound seems to exist somewhere already finished. It’s like a lighthouse, except that, as one swims towards it, it backs away.”
― Proofs & Theories: Essays on Poetry
― Proofs & Theories: Essays on Poetry
“But then I have long since grown accustomed to the thought that what we call dreams is semi-reality, the promise of reality, a foreglimpse and a whiff of it; that is they contain, in a very vague, diluted state, more genuine reality than our vaunted waking life which, in its turn, is semi-sleep, an evil drowsiness into which penetrate in grotesque disguise the sounds and sights of the real world, flowing beyond the periphery of the mind—as when you hear during sleep a dreadful insidious tale because a branch is scraping on the pane, or see yourself sinking into snow because your blanket is sliding off.”
― Invitation to a Beheading
― Invitation to a Beheading
Maria’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Maria’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
164 books
|
104 friends
492 books
|
305 friends
495 books
|
113 friends
68 books
|
16 friends
1,300 books
|
64 friends
133 books
|
18 friends
624 books
|
106 friends
377 books
|
221 friends
More friends…
Favorite Genres
Polls voted on by Maria
Lists liked by Maria
