November 2008
There are times when I think it isn’t quite kosher to be lying in the dark talking to women who aren’t in the room with me. And it turns into a certain kind of hauntedness and loneliness. But by and large, I dig it. - James Ellroy (reversecowgirl, luminol)
Se ripenso alla mia vita mi pare di non aver mai fatto nulla di mia volontà, ma sempre sotto la pressione degli altri. Spesso la gente mi considera un tipo avventuroso; niente di più lontano dal vero. Le mie avventure erano sempre fittizie, sempre imposte, sempre subite anziché intraprese. Io partecipo dell’essenza di quel popolo nordico orgoglioso e pieno di sé che non ha mai avuto il minimo...
▲back from the deep seven seas▼ →
she keeps going up and up and the light spreads out and the brightness transfigures her - guillaume apollinaire
I like the smell of paper - all kinds. It reminds me of the scent of skin.
N. (The Pillow Book - Peter Greenaway, 1996) (picapixels:intweetion:raelisreal)
..the time will come when I’ll have no place for my love to go.
— tracey emin (via reverse)
ask tracey some questions →
I said I feel that if you want to learn about the world you don’t sit around reading maps all days. I had this attitude that instead of going to another country or travelling, you just slept with someone. You’d learn more about different places by sleeping with someone than you would do by actually travelling, or learning another language.
-Tracey Emin
on écrit pas pour soi seule, j’écris pour toi. pour vous. si l‘autre n’est pas là, on n’écrit pas. sur une île déserte on n’écrit pas. il y a ça aussi, cette hypocrisie en postulat, de croire que c’est pour soi qu’on écrit.
-marguerite duras
I hate slick and pretty things. I prefer mistakes and accidents. Which is why I like things like cuts and bruises - they’re like little flowers. I’ve always said that if you have a name for something, like ‘cut’ or ‘bruise,’ people will automatically be disturbed by it. But when you see the same thing in nature, and you don’t know what it is, it can be...
avremo letti pieni di lievi profumi, i divani profondi come tombe, e degli strani fiori sui ripiani, schiusi per noi sotto cieli più belli
charles baudelaire, la morte degli amanti
Prima viene il continuare e solo dopo il ricominciare.
- Jean Monnet, Memoires (Akatelepsia; unpalombaro)