“Not quick enough with your answer,” she called playfully, after half a minute had passed. And, still laughing a little, she touched her finger to the ground, straightened up, and touched the finger to her lips and died. —Kurt Vonnegut, Cat’s Cradle
so I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in...– pablo neruda (via endofmarch)
They watched storms out there so distant they could not be heard, the silent...– Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy (via iamapatientboy)
SPOILER: everyone you know dies, and you get stabbed.
The untranslatable thought must be the most precise. Yet words are not the end...– Jane Hirschfield, from “After Long Silence” in After (via proustitute)
“Art is technique: a means by which to materialize the invisible realm of the mind. As such, my art is an emblematic rendering of part of my mind in visible form—or perhaps we might say, samplings from my consciousness.” Hiroshi Sugimoto, Mediterranean Sea, Cassis, 1989 [excerpt from here; +]