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bellsofatlantis56 seconds ago
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Vladimir Nabokov, a photograph of a letter sent to his wife V茅ra [19 January 1925] from Letters to V茅ra, tr. by Olga Voronin & Brian Boyd
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bellsofatlantis10 minutes ago
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I had a dim premonition that this woman would determine the pattern of my fate, and that her face was the predestined face of my Future. Near her I felt the luminous dizziness which comes at the edge of an abyss, or the attraction of a very deep water. She radiated the charm of danger, which drew me to her inexorably.
Ren茅e Vivien, from A Woman Appeared to Me, tr. by Jeannette H. Foster
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bellsofatlantis2 hours ago
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Heather Christle, from The Crying Book
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bellsofatlantis2 hours ago
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The length of the cry matters. I especially value an extended session, which gives me time to become curious, to look in the mirror, to observe my physical sadness. A truly powerful cry can withstand even this scientific activity. You lurch toward the bathroom, head hunched over, tucked in, and then gather your nerve to lift your gaze toward the mirror, where you see your hiccoughing breath shake your shoulders, your nose like a lifelong drunk鈥檚. It may interest you for a while to touch your swollen face, to peer into one bloodshot eye and another, but the beauty鈥檚 really in the movement, in watching your mouth try to swallow despair.
Heather Christle, from The Crying Book
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bellsofatlantis3 hours ago
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I do not want to cry. I want to be a poet. I want to look at the words with a dry and unswollen face.
Heather Christle, from The Crying Book
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bellsofatlantis21 hours ago
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Detail from The Flight into Egypt Adam Elsheimer (German, 1578-1610) 1609
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bellsofatlantis23 hours ago
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Love someone, something. Love is much less dangerous than thought. I know some obsession is tormenting you. The inexplicable mystery of the world, of life, haunts you perpetually. I have been through these tortures in the face of the Unknown.
Ren茅e Vivien, from A Woman Appeared to Me, tr. by Jeannette H. Foster
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bellsofatlantisa day ago
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Ren茅e Vivien, from A Woman Appeared to Me, tr. by Jeannette H. Foster
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bellsofatlantisa day ago
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I wrote my first poems聽to that girl with the beautiful lashes, who gave me openly her innocent tenderness.
Ren茅e Vivien, from A Woman Appeared to Me, tr. by Jeannette H. Foster
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bellsofatlantisa day ago
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imagine we lived in a world where your psychiatrist was like i prescribe you to go home and make cranberry cornmeal scones and chocolate chip cookies and deliver some to your friends and neighbors.
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bellsofatlantisa day ago
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bellsofatlantisa day ago
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Dancers of the Paris Op茅ra photographed in the Foyer de la Danse of the Palais Garnier, c. 1954
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bellsofatlantisa day ago
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It does not matter what you do, your social position, rich or poor but you have to relax and give yourself a break from the stories you tell yourself. Do your yoga, walks, meditation or whatever works. You're not going to stop all the thought trains but you can take the bite out of them and enjoy the scenery.
Jac O'Keeffe
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bellsofatlantisa day ago
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Kodak Retina IIC from 1954 with expired film
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bellsofatlantis4 days ago
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L茅on (1994) dir. Luc Besson
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bellsofatlantis4 days ago
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bellsofatlantis4 days ago
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Everything chimed with his desire and made him possess me. I had become his child. It was with his own child he made love every evening. And sometimes he takes fright, suddenly he鈥檚 worried about her health, as if he suddenly realized she was mortal and it suddenly struck him he might lose her.
Marguerite Duras, from The Lover, tr. by Barbara Bray
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bellsofatlantis4 days ago
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her skin鈥檚 as soft as that of certain fruits, you almost can鈥檛 grasp her, she鈥檚 almost illusory, it鈥檚 too much.
Marguerite Duras, from The Lover, tr. by Barbara Bray
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bellsofatlantis5 days ago
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Lifting my eyes from the book, from the tightly sequenced lines to the full and perfect night: Oh how like the stars my buried feelings break free,
Rainer Maria Rilke, from A Year with Rilke, tr. and edited by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows. From poem,聽鈥渓ifting my eyes鈥
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bellsofatlantis5 days ago
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In the face of impermanence and death, it takes courage to love the things of this world and to believe that praising them is our noblest calling.
Rainer Maria Rilke, from A Year with Rilke, tr. and edited by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows
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