We fucked a flame into being. Even the flowers are fucked into being between the...– D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterly’s Lover (via hateshiploveship)
twicedailypoetry: 1 My heart’s aflutter! I am standing in the bath tub crying. Mother, mother who am I? If he will just come back once and kiss me on the face his coarse hair brush my temple, it’s throbbing! then I can put on my clothes I guess, and walk the streets. 2 I love you. I love you, but I’m turning to my verses and my heart is closing like a fist. Words! be sick as I am sick, swoon,...
…and your memory is now like a ball gown with grass stains because of the...– Chelsey Minnis, from “Uncut” (via alinapleskova)
Stand up. Stretch. Crack knuckles. The cracks echo and bounce across the quiet...– Caribbean Writers: Me. Writing.
I turned upon her and caught her by the throat. I did my best to kill her. My...– Virginia Woolf, “Professions for Women” A paper read to the Women’s Service League happy 130th birthday (via hateshiploveship)
What I need is perspective. The illusion of depth, created by a frame, the...– Margaret Atwood | The Handmaid’s Tale (via blogut)
A riot is the language of the unheard.– Martin Luther King, Jr. in an address given in Birmingham, Alabama on December 31, 1963 (via fuckyeahexistentialism)
caribbeanwriters: Beyond the flood of sunlight on this sea, Beyond the horizon line, Beyond those outer and unknown horizons Into horizonless and glorious landscapes of the soul take wing, take wing; outward go singing. Not as stark men upon a drowning deck Or on a berserk salient doomed; Not as wind-driven wingers crying, Nor lowing as lost ones from flocks; Not as the hermit in his...
You must learn not to be afraid of the world.– Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead
Surely the peach-flowers blossom over the tomb of SIË-THAO.– The Story of Ming-Y
There is regret. Always, there is regret. But it is better that our lives...– Philip Larkin, from “Love, We Must Part Now” (via proustitute)