Zoey

“When they hurt themselves, they become the literal embodiment of all the people who have abused and hurt them—who have crushed their spirits and murdered their souls. They cling to cutting because they believe it is the only way they can be in control of their lives and their feelings. Yet, it is more symbolic of the absence of control. They are carrying on a devastating legacy, yielding the control to their abuses, letting them win.”
― Marilee Strong, A Bright Red Scream: Self-Mutilation and the Language of Pain

“I am not interested in being original. I am interested in being true.”
― Agostinho da Silva

“I always feel that I am a traveler, going somewhere and to some destination.

If I tell myself that the somewhere and the destination do not exist, that seems to me very likely and reasonable enough.

The brothel keeper, when he kicks anyone out, has similar logic, argues it well, and is always right, I know. So at the end of the course I shall find my mistake. Be it so. I shall find then that not only the Arts, but everything else as well, were only dreams, that one's self was nothing at all.”
― Vincent van Gogh

“But, you will say, what a dreadful person you are, with your impossible religious notions and idiotic scruples. If my ideas are impossible or idiotic then I would like nothing better than to be rid of them. But this is roughly the way I actually see things. In Le philosophe sous les toits by Souvestre you can read what a man of the people, a simple craftsman, pitiful if you will, thinks of his country: ‘Tu n’as peut-être jamais pensé á ce que c’est la patrie, reprit-il, en me posant une main sur l’épaule; c’est tout ce qui t’entoure, tout ce qui t’a élevé et nourri, tout ce que tu as aimé. Cette campagne que tu vois, ces maisons, ces arbres, ces jeunes filles qui passent lá en riant, c’est la patrie! Les lois qui te protégent, le pain qui paye ton travail, les paroles que tu échanges, la joie et la tristesse qui te viennent des hommes et des choses parmi lesquels tu vis, c’est la patrie! La petite chambre oú tu as autrefois vu ta mere, les souvenirs qu’elle t’a laisses, la terre oú elle repose, c’est la patrie! Tu la vois, tu la respires partout! Figure toi, tes droits et tes devoirs, tes affections et tes besoins, tes souvenirs et ta reconnaissance, réunis tout ça sous un seul nom et ce nom sera la patrie.”
― Vincent Van Gogh