Finding my reading list at Daunt Books
1. Illness as metaphor: Classic essayist, so crisp and evocative
2. The history of sexuality: just so interesting
3. Collected poems: a sensuous and slightly self-deprecating poet, constantly prostrating before his love
4. Bad behaviour: woman in big city doing morally dubious stuff…need i say more
Just 2% of my total list 💀
Love HP <33
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La Danse Macabre
I'm in a constant dance but with the Grim Reaper,
hoping the music will divert him just a little bit longer.
But every time the music skips,
so does the beat of the caged, pulsating muscle
within my chest.
Play music, play on, just a little longer.
Promise me, just a little while longer. My
endurance wanes, my stamina put to the test,
surely I cannot best this--
Dance-- mortal, dance!
March your marrow to dust, for what?
'Dreams, dreams, dreams,' a spirit long past screams.
Their wispy visions linger in my mind's eye,
compelling us once more, upon the crimson floor
rendered slick with blood, sweat, and tears
I haven't left to cry; minutes, hours, days, years
drift leisurely and yet swiftly by, in feeble chase of
the shortening wick to--
Dance, mortal, dance!
Do the gods above us scheme?
Do they not observe the sheen--
of sweat upon our brow?
My hopes are left a yonder, unanswered,
their weight too great to ponder,
my neck hovers above water,
no different than the prow.
Soon the dreams have lost their luster,
strength no longer there to muster,
ears gone deaf to the tune,
awaiting the ominous, inevitable tomb
where upon the headstone lay,
whose words are too heavy to say,
that even at my best,
when laid to rest,
I broke the womb only to...
Dance, mortal, dance.
- K. A. H.
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"You act like mortals in all that you fear, and like immortals in all that you desire."
- Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Because it is only that which we desire that makes us truly feel alive.
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I don't know if this exists. I've lost hope.
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And now for the time of the day when Kamille Alexandra Fritzgerald is graced with yet another Periodic Pother:
The greatest of life's tragedies is to embody so many things, to have lived through and been morphed by so many experiences, to have evolved in a multiplicity of fashions by a metophormesis of thought, but still be limited by most of humanity through the simplicity of a label. There is a world of suffering in the knowledge that you'll never be fully understood, that there are depths to you that people prefer to cast in shadow because the light blinds them of their preconceived notions or breastfed ideals.
What frightens me most about humanity is our endless capacity and desire to live in a world of stagnant thought, and whatever opposes it and the discomfort it brings should be forthwith annihilated, ostracized, or forgotten.
- K.A.H.
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“In 1404, King Taejong fell from his horse during a hunting expedition. Embarrassed, looking to his left and right, he commanded, “Do not let the historian find out about this.” To his disappointment, the historian accompanying the hunting party included these words in the annals, in addition to a description of the king’s fall.“
LMFAOOOOOO rip to that guy
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“Pearls lie not on the seashore. If thou desirest one, thou must dive for it.”
— Chinese Proverb
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herakles - euripides (tr. anne carson) // aaron o’hanlon
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Nothing in this world compares to the comfort and security of having someone just hold your hand.
-Richelle E. Goodrich
Chhutt jaaye zamana koi gham nhi,
Haath tera rahe bas mere haath mein.
-Nusrat Fateh ali Khan,Ankh uthi mohabbat
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Nikos Kazantzakis, from a letter to Andonis Anemoyannis, 1902
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"Give me a daughter with your stubborn heart, or your even temper. Give our children your dark-bright eyes, or your enchanted smile. So that even when we are gone, the world will find within them all of the reasons why I loved you.
إعطني إبنة لها قلبك العنيد أو حتى طبعك إعط طفلنا عيناك السمراوين اللامعين أو إبتسماتك المسحورة
لكي حتى و بعد رحيلنا ، سيجد العالم فيهم كل الأسباب التي أحببتك لها
-Nizar Qabbani
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“Better keep yourself clean and bright. You are the window through which you must see the world.” — George Bernard Shaw
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