Page 16 of 19 FirstFirst ... 61213141516171819 LastLast
Results 601 to 640 of 743

Thread: Favorite poems and quotations.

  1. #601
    * I’m special * flames's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2016
    Location
    TV
    TIM
    Sx/Sp 2w3
    Posts
    2,810
    Mentioned
    352 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    avoir elle, c'est avoir les étoiles
    (to have her is to have the stars)
    ・゚*✧ 𝓘 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓘 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 ✧*:・゚

  2. #602

    Default

    One tree is like another tree, but not too much. One tulip is like the next tulip, but not altogether. More or less like people – a general outline, then the stunning individual strokes. Hello Tom, hello Andy. Hello Archibald Violet, and Clarissa Bluebell. Hello Lilian Willow, and Noah, the oak tree I have hugged and kissed every first day of spring for the last thirty years. And in reply its thousands of leaves tremble! What a life is ours! Doesn’t anybody in the world anymore want to get up in the
    middle of the night and
    sing?

    In the beginning I was young and such a stranger to myself I hardly existed. I had to go out into the world and see it and hear it and react to it, before I knew at all who I was, what I was, what I wanted to be. Wordsworth studied himself and found the subject astonishing. Actually what he studied was his relationship to the harmonies and also the discords of the natural world. That’s what created the excitement.

    And whoever thinks these are worthy, breathy words I am writing down is kind. Writing is neither vibrant life nor docile artifact but a text that would put all its money on the hope of suggestion. Come with me into the field of sunflowers is a better line than anything you will find here, and the sunflowers themselves far more wonderful than any words about them.

    Do you think there is anything not attached by its unbreakable cord to everything else? Plant your peas and your corn in the field when the moon is full, or risk failure. This has been understood since planting began. The attention of the seed to the draw of the moon is, I suppose, measurable, like the tilt of the planet. Or maybe not -- maybe you have to add some immeasurable ingredient made of the hour, the singular field, the hand of the sower.

    Understand from the first this certainty. Butterflies don’t write books, neither do lilies or violets. Which doesn’t mean they don’t know, in their own way, what they are. That they don’t know, in their own way, what they are. That they don’t know they are alive – that they don’t feel. That action upon which all consciousness sits, lightly or heavily. Humility is the price of the leaf-world. Vain-glory is the bane of us the humans.

    • Mary Oliver, Upstream


    some bronco,
    somewhere,
    he went,
    ‘no loving for me…
    …no loving for you’
    but then when
    thought the Rainfox,
    for some coronco?

    • sincerely by the artist formerly known as
    Last edited by Moonbeaux Rainfox; 11-16-2019 at 04:46 PM.

  3. #603
    Professional IEI Identifier on a peaceful hiatus's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2019
    TIM
    LII-C
    Posts
    4,366
    Mentioned
    259 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    In the very end, civilizations perish because they listen to their politicians and not to their poets.” - Jonas Mekas, IEI

    Imagine an eye unruled by man-made laws of perspective, an eye unprejudiced by compositional logic, an eye which does not respond to the name of everything but which must know each object encountered in life through an adventure of perception. How many colors are there in a field of grass to the crawling baby unaware of 'Green'? How many rainbows can light create for the untutored eye? How aware of variations in heat waves can that eye be? Imagine a world alive with incomprehensible objects and shimmering with an endless variety of movement and innumerable gradations of color. Imagine a world before the 'beginning was the word.” - Stan Brakhage, ILI
    my ideas about socionics:

    https://soziotypen.de/thoughts-on-socionics/

    the section will be updated ever other month or so.

    this is a VI thread with IEI examples

    https://www.the16types.info/vbulleti...-(IEI-edition)

    and this is a thread with EIE examples

    https://www.the16types.info/vbulleti...s-EIE-examples

  4. #604
    Queen of the Damned Aylen's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2013
    Location
    Spiritus Mundi
    TIM
    psyche 4w5 sx/sp
    Posts
    11,347
    Mentioned
    1005 Post(s)
    Tagged
    42 Thread(s)

    Default

    "Not easy to state the change you made.
    If I'm alive now, then I was dead,
    Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,
    Staying put according to habit.
    You didn't just tow me an inch, no-
    Nor leave me to set my small bald eye
    Skyward again, without hope, of course,
    Of apprehending blueness, or stars.

    That wasn't it. I slept, say: a snake
    Masked among black rocks as a black rock
    In the white hiatus of winter-
    Like my neighbors, taking no pleasure
    In the million perfectly-chisled
    Cheeks alighting each moment to melt
    My cheeks of basalt. They turned to tears,
    Angels weeping over dull natures,
    But didn't convince me. Those tears froze.
    Each dead head had a visor of ice.

    And I slept on like a bent finger.
    The first thing I was was sheer air
    And the locked drops rising in dew
    Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay
    Dense and expressionless round about.
    I didn't know what to make of it.
    I shone, mice-scaled, and unfolded
    To pour myself out like a fluid
    Among bird feet and the stems of plants.
    I wasn't fooled. I knew you at once.

    Tree and stone glittered, without shadows.
    My finger-length grew lucent as glass.
    I started to bud like a March twig:
    An arm and a leg, and arm, a leg.
    From stone to cloud, so I ascended.
    Now I resemble a sort of god
    Floating through the air in my soul-shift
    Pure as a pane of ice. It's a gift."

    ― Sylvia Plath

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
    YWIMW

  5. #605
    voider's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2019
    TIM
    SEE
    Posts
    638
    Mentioned
    78 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    The shock of first seeing a birch tree at night, rising up in the dark as cool and slim as a ghost. And the nights, bigger than imagining: black and gusty and enormous, disordered and wild with stars. — Donna Tartt, "The Secret History"

  6. #606
    End's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2015
    TIM
    ILI-Ni sp/sx
    Posts
    1,857
    Mentioned
    293 Post(s)
    Tagged
    3 Thread(s)

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by ashlesha View Post
    “What I cry out for, like every being, with my whole life, and all my earthly passion, is something very different from an equal to cherish: it is a God to adore. To adore; that means, to lose oneself in the unfathomable, to plunge into the inexhaustible, to find peace in the incorruptible, to be absorbed in defined immensity, to offer oneself to the fire and the transparency, to annihilate oneself in proportion as one becomes more deliberately conscious of oneself, and to give of one’s deepest to that whose depth has no end. Whom, then, can we adore? The more man becomes man, the more will he become prey to a need, a need that is always more explicit, more subtle, and more magnificent—the need to adore.”

    — Teilhard de Chardin
    Or you could just accept that Jesus Christ is lord and savior. He does indeed deserve our adoration after all given the criteria of the quoted tryhard. I mean, if ya gotta "adore" something, might as well adore a thing that loves you enough to die horribly for your eternal sake even if you despise them for doing so.

  7. #607
    Banned
    Join Date
    Oct 2018
    Location
    Beyond the Pale
    TIM
    Heretic
    Posts
    7,017
    Mentioned
    151 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by End View Post
    Or you could just accept that Jesus Christ is lord and savior. He does indeed deserve our adoration after all given the criteria of the quoted tryhard. I mean, if ya gotta "adore" something, might as well adore a thing that loves you enough to die horribly for your eternal sake even if you despise them for doing so.
    LOL. You have not been paying attention to ashlesha's posts, have you. ashlesha talks about church a lot. She's not a level 3 warlock in need of some smiting.

  8. #608
    Queen of the Damned Aylen's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2013
    Location
    Spiritus Mundi
    TIM
    psyche 4w5 sx/sp
    Posts
    11,347
    Mentioned
    1005 Post(s)
    Tagged
    42 Thread(s)

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by End View Post
    Or you could just accept that Jesus Christ is lord and savior. He does indeed deserve our adoration after all given the criteria of the quoted tryhard. I mean, if ya gotta "adore" something, might as well adore a thing that loves you enough to die horribly for your eternal sake even if you despise them for doing so.
    You are proselytizing to people for their quotes now?


    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
    YWIMW

  9. #609
    Banned
    Join Date
    Oct 2018
    Location
    Beyond the Pale
    TIM
    Heretic
    Posts
    7,017
    Mentioned
    151 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    Wenn nicht mehr Zahlen und Figuren
    Sind Schlüssel aller Kreaturen
    Wenn die, so singen oder küssen,
    Mehr als die Tiefgelehrten wissen,
    Wenn sich die Welt ins freye Leben
    Und in die Welt wird zurück begeben,
    Wenn dann sich wieder Licht und Schatten
    Zu ächter Klarheit werden gatten,
    Und man in Mährchen und Gedichten
    Erkennt die wahren Weltgeschichten,
    Dann fliegt vor Einem geheimen Wort
    Das ganze verkehrte Wesen fort.

    NOVALIS

  10. #610
    Banned
    Join Date
    Oct 2018
    Location
    Beyond the Pale
    TIM
    Heretic
    Posts
    7,017
    Mentioned
    151 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    Es reden und träumen die Menschen viel
    von bessern künftigen Tagen;
    nach einem glücklichen, goldenen Ziel
    sieht man sie rennen und jagen.
    Die Welt wird alt und wird wieder jung,
    doch der Mensch hofft immer Verbesserung.


    Die Hoffnung führt ihn ins Leben ein,
    sie umflattert den fröhlichen Knaben,
    den Jüngling locket ihr Zauberschein,
    sie wird mit dem Greis nicht begraben;
    denn beschließt er im Grabe den müden Lauf,
    noch am Grabe pflanzt er – die Hoffnung auf.


    Es ist kein leerer, schmeichelnder Wahn,
    erzeugt im Gehirne des Toren,
    im Herzen kündet es laut sich an:
    zu was Besserm sind wir geboren.
    Und was die innere Stimme spricht,
    das täuscht die hoffende Seele nicht.

    Friedrich von Schiller

  11. #611
    End's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2015
    TIM
    ILI-Ni sp/sx
    Posts
    1,857
    Mentioned
    293 Post(s)
    Tagged
    3 Thread(s)

    Default

    "War does not determine who is right, only who is left"--Pretty much the truth. History is written by the victors and all that.

    "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot."--How every wannabe writer/author should view their work. Art and expression first, all else second. Sadly, like I say over and over again, they be way more focused on propagandizing their worldview than delivering on a good story or just some honest to God fun in fictional form. Hence why most everything made recently sucks balls harder than a singularity that you've already passed the "Event Horizon" on.

    "I see it all perfectly; there are two possible situations — one can either do this or that. My honest opinion and my friendly advice is this: do it or do not do it — you will regret both."--A good point, but only if you let introspection consume you. Sometimes ya just have to "act". At some point, you simply must do something. It can be nothing, as even that counts as an action really. Yet if you dwell on it long enough you will regret it. Should have said it this way instead of that, should have kept my mouth shut there, etc. You'll regret most everything you've ever done if you analyze it long and hard enough. Know that, acknowledge it, and grow stronger from realizing that truth.

    "I would't know, I've only ever killed Communists"--A quote/feeling I'm sorry to say many will be made to be quite familiar with in the coming decade in regards to what it obviously implies. Wish it wasn't the case but, well, the commies did bring it upon themselves in the end if we're all being honest.

  12. #612
    Queen of the Damned Aylen's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2013
    Location
    Spiritus Mundi
    TIM
    psyche 4w5 sx/sp
    Posts
    11,347
    Mentioned
    1005 Post(s)
    Tagged
    42 Thread(s)

    Default

    “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”
    ― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
    YWIMW

  13. #613
    inaLim's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2019
    TIM
    SLE
    Posts
    510
    Mentioned
    43 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    AWAKENING

    Sleep and slumber, dreams of wonder... weaving,
    morning's vacuum broke the spell
    Pitted pillow, note of parting... leaving,
    'from your friend, a fond farewell'
    Sunrise throbbing, twilight aching... grieving,
    daydreams, flashbacks, nightmares knell
    Pale phantasms, visions sneaking... thieving,
    plot to fill the empty shell

    12 DELIRIA

    1st Delirium: Collapses
    Fractured sky bolts, billows bursting... rumbling,
    heavens tighten, turn the vise
    Horsemen saddle shafts of lightning... tumbling,
    jagged highways must suffice
    Ruptured skyways, hailstones crackling... crumbling,
    naked pearls of paradise
    Toxic tongues of laughter stinging... stumbling,
    ocean buckets choked with ice
    Droplets drumming, thunder muzzled... mumbling,
    washed out whispers pay the price
    Smothered blazes, cinders smoking... humbling,
    ashes shaped in sacrifice

    2nd Delirium: Descents
    Asphalt alleys, ashen faces... frowning,
    blowing bubbles, chewing gum
    Drinking ale from tavern tankards... downing,
    moonlit beads of painted rum
    Stony stars and sea misshapen... drowning,
    humble rivers' rhythms hum
    Apparitions aspirating... clowning,
    diamonds dying, minstrels strum
    Incandescent candles conquered... crowning,
    vacant vapours, cold and numb

    3rd Delirium: Fates
    Tempest turmoil, tapered turrets... holding,
    dungeons, dragons, chains and racks
    Wheels of fortune, Tarot temptress... molding,
    Hangmen, Towers, One Eyed Jacks
    Sand dune castles, cryptic candles... folding,
    warping walls of liquid wax
    Idols colder, combed and coddled... scolding,
    hide in fissures, peek through cracks

    4th Delirium: Lost Souls
    Sunken cities, pilgrims peering... gawking,
    squinting eyeballs, blazing sun
    Janus facing, shepherds chasing... stalking,
    friends embrace before they shun
    Tearooms steaming, tumult teeming... talking,
    lovers listen, poets pun
    Broken stones unanchored, quaking... rocking,
    slipping, falling, one by one
    Beaten pathways, footsteps marking... mocking,
    wedged in webs which spiders spun
    Circus shelters, big tops tumbling... locking,
    people pacing, soon they're none
    Numbered exits, zeros numbing... knocking,
    midnight daylight's days undone
    Moon blood shackles, shivers shaming... shocking,
    starlight striders streaking, stun
    Hushed but harried hermits waiting... walking,
    restless rainbows on the run
    Pixies, elves, and echoes bouncing... balking,
    fading fast when dawn's begun
    Bantum butterflies are flitting... flocking
    sometimes conquered, overrun
    Hocus pokus, seers focus... squawking,
    voodoo wavered, witchcraft won

    5th Delirium: Introspection
    Sundown furnace, fires fading... coughing,
    dusky dew drops drain the air
    Empty chalice, sipped in silence... quaffing,
    thirsting shadows unaware
    Looking glass and lattice scorning... scoffing,
    local loser gapes and stares
    Faces covered, dancing naked... doffing,
    peering inside, hope despairs

    6th Delirium: The Void
    Tales of taboos, mystic mythos... missing,
    windows shuttered, bolted door
    Kindled candles, tongues and anvils... hissing,
    heavy hammers, echoes roar
    Dark deceivers, raven charmers... kissing,
    draging demons from the shore
    Hopeless hollows filled with doubters... dissing
    standing empty - nevermore

    7th Delirium: Searching
    Martyred monks haunt runic ruins... waiting,
    banging broken bells below
    Vaulted hallways, voided voices... grating,
    churning Chinese chimes aglow
    Granite graveyards, spectres spooking... skating,
    blackened bushes, roses grow
    Midget dwarfs seek mutant migrants... mating,
    packing parcels, ice and snow

    8th Delirium: Nighttime
    Throbbing drumheads, fingers blazing... steaming,
    coins of copper, beggars plea
    Rusty residues of resin... streaming,
    opal amber filigree
    Orphan shades in shallow shadows... teeming,
    steeping twigs in twilight tea
    Cloister doorsteps, Prophets gaming... scheming,
    tracing tracks of destiny
    Blacksmiths blanching, horseshoes glowing... gleaming,
    partially sheathed in black debris
    Phantoms feigning, nightmares scathing... screaming,
    dusty dreamers drifting free

    9th Delerium: Emptyness
    Water wheels in wastelands... turning,
    drowning relics in the slum
    Rumpled rags of fashioned burlap... burning,
    lit by bandits blind and dumb
    Pastured prisons, ponies bridled... yearning,
    forest fairies under thumb
    Sounds inside of cauldrons coughing... churning,
    blaring bugles, tattooed drum

    10th Delirium: Alienation
    Rain unravelling, wistfully weeping... falling,
    treacle trickling, fickle sky
    Mushrooms sprinkled, visions sprouting... sprawling,
    seagulls drowning, dolphins die
    Rabble gasping, spirits broken... crawling,
    lonely lonesome swallows cry
    Babbling brooks and breakers ebbing... bawling
    puppies paddle, puppets sigh
    People passing ripple past me... calling,
    rainbow colours, collars high
    Chaos seething, lepers looting... stalling,
    stealing stallions on the sly
    Pencils pausing, scholars scrambling... scrawling,
    scratching scribbles, asking why

    11th Delirium: Jetsam
    Silver sails sway pallid pirates... prowling,
    Jolly Rogers, wind and sound
    Parrots perching, tattered feathers... fouling,
    tethered talons, tied and bound
    Shipwrecked foghorns, trumpets stranded... howling,
    spiral springs of time unwound
    Magic moonlight, shimmers shaking... scowling,
    burnt out matchsticks washed aground
    Prairie wolfs, coyotes calling... yowling,
    witching hours, midnight hounds
    Tightrope walkers, grizzlies grunting... growling,
    seeking islands, lost and found

    12th Delirium: Relief
    Slumber shattered, vapours captive... haunting,
    chained in mirrors, breaking free
    Scarlet skylines, daylight dawning... daunting,
    rivers rushing to the sea
    Silence softens, sandmen whisper... wanting,
    piercing rafters, turning keys
    Shadows shudder, notions fluster... flaunting,
    moonbeam bullets meant for me
    Mind in migraine, meadows trembling... taunting,
    sparrows speak in harmony

    REAWAKENING

    Pitter patter, teardrops paling... pearling,
    salting scarves in secret drawers
    Mist amongst us, smoke rings rising... curling,
    climbing from the ocean floors
    See-saw circles, senses swerving... swirling,
    swept away with silver oars
    Courtyard jesters, sceptres twisting... twirling,
    push the past to foreign shores
    Passing pangs of passions heaving... hurling,
    burning bridges, closing doors
    Roses wither, icons waning... whirling,
    time decays and time restores


    Lost Love Deliria
    Terry O’Leary

  14. #614
    * I’m special * flames's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2016
    Location
    TV
    TIM
    Sx/Sp 2w3
    Posts
    2,810
    Mentioned
    352 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    wear your scars like tattoos
    let them remind you of all
    the times you could’ve died,
    but survived the heartache and pain
    the world endured.

    - N. Sammak
    ・゚*✧ 𝓘 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓘 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 ✧*:・゚

  15. #615
    Banned
    Join Date
    Oct 2018
    Location
    Beyond the Pale
    TIM
    Heretic
    Posts
    7,017
    Mentioned
    151 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    "A clan does not bring forth a demigod,
    Does not produce a monster unforeseen;
    Only a line of good or evil men,
    Bring happiness or terror in the end."

    — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

    @mu4 @Grendel Thanks for reminding me of this in Shoutbox. (This will probably be my signature once I make my OC avatar and everyone else makes theirs or has theirs made by someone who does art.)

  16. #616
    Banned
    Join Date
    Oct 2018
    Location
    Beyond the Pale
    TIM
    Heretic
    Posts
    7,017
    Mentioned
    151 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    Alexander Pushkin
    The Poet and the Crowd

    "Procul este, profani." ["Away, profaners!" -- Horace]

    The poet's absent-minded hand
    Strummed the inspired lyre. He sang on
    While unenlightened folk around,
    Expressions proud and coldly frowned,
    Listened with meaningless attention.
    And the crass rabble questioned thus:
    "To what end is his tuneful singing?
    With earfuls of this soulful ringing,
    To what goal is he leading us?
    Where is the lesson in his chanting?
    Our hearts both breaking and enchanting,
    Oh waywardmost of sorcerers,
    Your song is freer than the breeze,
    But just as fruitless. Tell us please,
    Where's the utility to us?"

    The Poet

    Be silent, senseless mob, grunt not,
    Wage worker, slave to care and want,
    I cannot stand your cheeky rant!
    Worm of the earth, not son of heaven,
    Utility's what you believe in,
    Your judgment is inane and hollow:
    You weigh the torso of Apollo,
    Yet in his form you see no good.
    That marble is a god! So what?
    You much prefer your cooking pot,
    Because therein you cook your food!

    The Rabble

    No, Sir! If you are heaven's chosen,
    Not someone who's a dime a dozen,
    Use divine gifts as it befits:
    Conduits for useful benefits!
    Correct with verse your brethren's hearts,
    For we are cowardly, ungrateful,
    Sly, foolish, wicked, shameless, hateful,
    Slaves, liars, targets for your dart.
    We are cold castrates of the heart!
    Berate us then, our vice to lessen,
    Loving thy neighbor. We too may love you
    If you instill in us your lesson
    The while we have a listen of you.

    The Poet

    Away with you! The peaceful poet
    Cares not for your stupidity!
    The lyre cannot revive your lot:
    Persist in your depravity.
    Each of you frightens like a coffin.
    Think of the plethora of fine things
    You've used to exercise your vileness:
    Whips, prisons, axes; – enough, madmen!
    Since on your sidewalk townfolk walk,
    Sweeping it clean is useful work,
    Yet do you ask the altar priests
    To ply the broom and sweep the streets?
    No, not for mundane trepidation,
    Nor mortal gain, nor battleground,
    But we were born for inspiration,
    For prayerful and wondrous sound.

    Translated from the Russian by Philip Nikolayev



    @The Bourgeoisie

  17. #617
    Adam Strange's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2015
    Location
    Midwest, USA
    TIM
    ENTJ-1Te 8w7 sx/so
    Posts
    16,228
    Mentioned
    1553 Post(s)
    Tagged
    2 Thread(s)

    Default

    No gods, no kings, only man.

  18. #618
    * I’m special * flames's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2016
    Location
    TV
    TIM
    Sx/Sp 2w3
    Posts
    2,810
    Mentioned
    352 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    “I kissed him passionately, I even wanted to bruise him, so that he would not be able to forget me.”

    -Françoise Sagan
    ・゚*✧ 𝓘 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓘 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 ✧*:・゚

  19. #619
    Banned
    Join Date
    Oct 2018
    Location
    Beyond the Pale
    TIM
    Heretic
    Posts
    7,017
    Mentioned
    151 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default


  20. #620
    Banned
    Join Date
    Oct 2018
    Location
    Beyond the Pale
    TIM
    Heretic
    Posts
    7,017
    Mentioned
    151 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    ...But what you don't know is that that sweater is not just blue, it's not turquoise. It's not lapis. It's actually cerulean.
    — Miranda Priestly, The Devil Wears Prada


  21. #621

    Join Date
    Nov 2019
    TIM
    IEI
    Posts
    17
    Mentioned
    1 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    Found

    ONCE through the forest
    Alone I went;
    To seek for nothing
    My thoughts were bent.
    I saw i' the shadow
    A flower stand there
    As stars it glisten'd,
    As eyes 'twas fair.
    I sought to pluck it,--
    It gently said:
    "Shall I be gather'd
    Only to fade?"
    With all its roots
    I dug it with care,
    And took it home
    To my garden fair.
    In silent corner
    Soon it was set;
    There grows it ever,
    There blooms it yet.
    1815. Goethe

  22. #622
    Adam Strange's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2015
    Location
    Midwest, USA
    TIM
    ENTJ-1Te 8w7 sx/so
    Posts
    16,228
    Mentioned
    1553 Post(s)
    Tagged
    2 Thread(s)

    Default

    Driving at night I feel the Milky Way
    streaming above me like the graph of a cry.

    -Adrienne Rich

  23. #623
    * I’m special * flames's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2016
    Location
    TV
    TIM
    Sx/Sp 2w3
    Posts
    2,810
    Mentioned
    352 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    i was the ocean
    you wanted rivers
    i was the moon
    you chased the stars
    ・゚*✧ 𝓘 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓘 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 ✧*:・゚

  24. #624
    * I’m special * flames's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2016
    Location
    TV
    TIM
    Sx/Sp 2w3
    Posts
    2,810
    Mentioned
    352 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by coeruleum View Post
    Ne!!!!
    ・゚*✧ 𝓘 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓘 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 ✧*:・゚

  25. #625
    Banned
    Join Date
    Oct 2018
    Location
    Beyond the Pale
    TIM
    Heretic
    Posts
    7,017
    Mentioned
    151 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by flames View Post
    Ne!!!!
    I'm not sure what concealing a weapon in a silly way has to do with social justice but whatever you say.

  26. #626
    Haikus
    Join Date
    May 2013
    Posts
    2,597
    Mentioned
    103 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    .You Can Be A
    KING
    ........OR A
    STREET
    SWEEPER
    .BUT EVERYBODY
    DANCES WITH
    ......
    ...THE
    .GRIM REAPER

  27. #627
    Dauphin's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2016
    Location
    North Carolina
    TIM
    EIE
    Posts
    946
    Mentioned
    23 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    The Man-Moth
    BY ELIZABETH BISHOP
    Man-Moth: Newspaper misprint for “mammoth.”


    Here, above,
    cracks in the buildings are filled with battered moonlight.
    The whole shadow of Man is only as big as his hat.
    It lies at his feet like a circle for a doll to stand on,
    and he makes an inverted pin, the point magnetized to the moon.
    He does not see the moon; he observes only her vast properties,
    feeling the queer light on his hands, neither warm nor cold,
    of a temperature impossible to record in thermometers.


    But when the Man-Moth
    pays his rare, although occasional, visits to the surface,
    the moon looks rather different to him. He emerges
    from an opening under the edge of one of the sidewalks
    and nervously begins to scale the faces of the buildings.
    He thinks the moon is a small hole at the top of the sky,
    proving the sky quite useless for protection.
    He trembles, but must investigate as high as he can climb.


    Up the façades,
    his shadow dragging like a photographer’s cloth behind him
    he climbs fearfully, thinking that this time he will manage
    to push his small head through that round clean opening
    and be forced through, as from a tube, in black scrolls on the light.
    (Man, standing below him, has no such illusions.)
    But what the Man-Moth fears most he must do, although
    he fails, of course, and falls back scared but quite unhurt.


    Then he returns
    to the pale subways of cement he calls his home. He flits,
    he flutters, and cannot get aboard the silent trains
    fast enough to suit him. The doors close swiftly.
    The Man-Moth always seats himself facing the wrong way
    and the train starts at once at its full, terrible speed,
    without a shift in gears or a gradation of any sort.
    He cannot tell the rate at which he travels backwards.


    Each night he must
    be carried through artificial tunnels and dream recurrent dreams.
    Just as the ties recur beneath his train, these underlie
    his rushing brain. He does not dare look out the window,
    for the third rail, the unbroken draught of poison,
    runs there beside him. He regards it as a disease
    he has inherited the susceptibility to. He has to keep
    his hands in his pockets, as others must wear mufflers.


    If you catch him,
    hold up a flashlight to his eye. It’s all dark pupil,
    an entire night itself, whose haired horizon tightens
    as he stares back, and closes up the eye. Then from the lids
    one tear, his only possession, like the bee’s sting, slips.
    Slyly he palms it, and if you’re not paying attention
    he’ll swallow it. However, if you watch, he’ll hand it over,
    cool as from underground springs and pure enough to drink.

  28. #628
    Adam Strange's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2015
    Location
    Midwest, USA
    TIM
    ENTJ-1Te 8w7 sx/so
    Posts
    16,228
    Mentioned
    1553 Post(s)
    Tagged
    2 Thread(s)

    Default

    “People always tell me that this is possible, that that is impossible. But do we understand anything about the workings of fate?”

    -Jean Cocteau

  29. #629

    Default

    “There is perhaps no phenomenon which contains so much destructive feelings as “moral indignation,” which permits envy or hate to be acted out under the guise of virtue. The “indignant” person has for once the satisfaction of despising and treating a creature as “inferior,” coupled with the feeling of his own superiority and rightness.” - Erich Fromm

  30. #630
    ooo's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2017
    Location
    the bootie
    Posts
    4,052
    Mentioned
    300 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    great quote^

    today one of the most loved politician around here, a typical right wing ignorant, went around the poor neighborhoods of my city, ringed the intercom of some immigrant families, and with a face like his ass, asked "do you sell drugs?"

    *vomit*

  31. #631
    ooo's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2017
    Location
    the bootie
    Posts
    4,052
    Mentioned
    300 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    "Tradition is not the cult of ashes, it is custody of the fire"

  32. #632

    Default

    DYING, LAUGHING

    A lover was telling his beloved
    how much he loved her, how faithful
    he had been, how self-sacrificing, getting up
    at dawn every morning, fasting, giving up
    wealth and strength and fame,
    all for her.

    There was a fire in him.
    He didn't know where it came from,
    but it made him weep and melt like a candle.

    "You've done well," she said, "but listen to me.
    All this is the decor of love, the branches
    and leaves and blossoms. You must live
    at the root to be a true lover."
    "Where is that!
    Tell me!"
    "You've done the outward acts,
    but you haven't died. You must die."

    When he heard that, he lay back on the ground
    laughing, and died. He opened like a rose
    that drops to the ground and died laughing.

    That laughter was his freedom,
    and his gift to the eternal.

    As moonlight shines back at the sun,
    he heard the call to come home, and went.

    When light returns to its source,
    it takes nothing
    of what it has illuminated.

    It may have shone on a garbage dump, or a garden,
    or in the center of a human eye. No matter.

    It goes, and when it does,
    the open plain becomes passionately desolate,
    wanting it back.

    Mevlana Rumi

  33. #633
    LϺαο Not A Communist Shill's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2005
    Location
    Beijing
    TIM
    TMI
    Posts
    19,136
    Mentioned
    506 Post(s)
    Tagged
    4 Thread(s)

    Default

    “We read the letters of the dead like helpless gods,
    but gods, nonetheless, since we know the dates that follow.
    We know which debts will never be repaid.
    Which widows will remarry with the corpse still warm.
    Poor dead, blindfolded dead,
    gullible, fallible, pathetically prudent.
    We see the faces people make behind their backs.
    We catch the sound of wills being ripped to shreds.
    The dead sit before us comically, as if on buttered bread,
    or frantically pursue the hats blown from their heads.
    Their bad taste, Napoleon, steam, electricity,
    their fatal remedies for curable diseases,
    their foolish apocalypse according to St. John,
    their counterfeit heaven on earth according to Jean-Jacques…
    We watch the pawns on their chessboards in silence,
    even though we see them three squares later.
    Everything the dead predicted has turned out completely different.
    Or a little bit different – which is to say, completely different.
    The most fervent of them gaze confidingly into our eyes:
    their calculations tell them that they’ll find perfection there.”
    — Wislawa Szymborska, The Letters of the Dead
    (Translation by Stanislaw Baranczak & Clare Cavanagh)

  34. #634

    Default

    “He accorded his art the highest respect, that of never taking it for granted. Always, as long as he lived, he tried to learn more, in order to serve it better.”
    Elizabeth Borton De Trevino,
    I, Juan de Pareja

  35. #635

    Join Date
    Jan 2020
    TIM
    EIE-Ni
    Posts
    61
    Mentioned
    2 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    Full Moon
    BY ELINOR WYLIE


    My bands of silk and miniver
    Momently grew heavier;
    The black gauze was beggarly thin;
    The ermine muffled mouth and chin;
    I could not suck the moonlight in.


    Harlequin in lozenges
    Of love and hate, I walked in these
    Striped and ragged rigmaroles;
    Along the pavement my footsoles
    Trod warily on living coals.


    Shouldering the thoughts I loathed,
    In their corrupt disguises clothed,
    Morality I could not tear
    From my ribs, to leave them bare
    Ivory in silver air.


    There I walked, and there I raged;
    The spiritual savage caged
    Within my skeleton, raged afresh
    To feel, behind a carnal mesh,
    The clean bones crying in the flesh.

  36. #636
    Dauphin's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2016
    Location
    North Carolina
    TIM
    EIE
    Posts
    946
    Mentioned
    23 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    Dream Song #327 by John Berryman

    Freud was some wrong about dreams, or almost all;
    besides his insights grand, he thought that dreams were a transcript
    of childhood & the day before,
    censored of course: a transcript:
    even his lesser insight were misunderstood & became a bore
    except for the knowing & troubled by the Fall.
    Grand Jewish ruler, custodian of the past,
    our paedegogue to whip us into truth,
    I sees your long story,
    tyrannical & triumphant all-wise at last
    you wholly failed to take into account youth
    & had no interest in your glory.
    I tell you, Sir, you have enlightened but
    you have misled us: a dream is a panorama
    of the whole mental life,
    I took one once to forty-three structures, that
    accounted in each for each word: I did not yell ‘mama’
    nor did I take it out on my wife.

  37. #637
    Dauphin's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2016
    Location
    North Carolina
    TIM
    EIE
    Posts
    946
    Mentioned
    23 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    "The more clearly you become conscious of the frailty, vanity, and dream-like quality of all things, the more clearly will you also become conscious of the eternity of your own inner being." - Arthur Schopenhauer

  38. #638

    Join Date
    Jan 2020
    TIM
    EIE-Ni
    Posts
    61
    Mentioned
    2 Post(s)
    Tagged
    0 Thread(s)

    Default

    "Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
    hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
    pressed me against his heart, I would perish
    in the embrace of his stronger existence.
    For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
    which we are barely able to endure and are awed
    because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
    Every angel is terrifying."

    Rainer Maria Rilke: Duino Elegies - The First Elegy


    Sascha Schneider: Hypnose, 1904


    Sascha Schneider: The Astral Man, 1903

    I want to know
    if you know
    how to melt into that fierce heat of living
    falling toward
    the center of your longing


  39. #639
    Chthonic Daydream's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2017
    Location
    The Snail Spiral
    Posts
    1,245
    Mentioned
    171 Post(s)
    Tagged
    2 Thread(s)

    Default

    Tatyana's letter to Onegin from Pushkin's Eugene Onegin


    I write this to you - what more can be said?
    What more can I add to that one fact?
    For now I know it is in your power
    To punish me contemptuously for this act.
    But you, keeping for my unhappy lot
    Even one drop of sympathy
    Will not entirely abandon me.
    At first I wished to remain silent;
    Believe me, my shame, my agony,
    You never ever would have heard.
    As long as hope remained preserved


    That rarely, even once a week,
    I'd see you in our country house,
    To hear your voice, to hear you speak,
    To say a few words, and then, and then
    To think, and think, and think again
    All day, all night, until the next meeting.

    But it is said you are unsociable,
    And in this backwater all is tedious to you,
    While we… well here we shine at nothing,
    Although we're glad to welcome you.


    Why did you come to visit us?
    In this forgotten rural home
    Your face I never would have known
    Nor known this bitter suffering.
    The fever of inexperience
    In time (who can tell?) would have died down,
    And I'd have found another lover,
    Dear to my heart, to whom I'd be true,
    And a loving wife, and virtuous mother.

    Another!… No, no one on this earth
    Is there to whom I'd give my heart!
    That is ordained by highest fate…
    That is heaven's will - that I am yours;
    My life till now was but a pledge,
    Of meeting with you, a forward image;
    You were sent by heaven of that I'm sure,
    To the grave itself you are my saviour…
    In dreams you have appeared to me,
    Though yet unseen, I held you dear,
    Your glance and strangeness tortured me,
    To my soul your voice was loud and clear
    From long ago… It was not a dream!
    You came, and I knew that very instant,
    I was struck dumb, my heart flared up,
    And in my thoughts said "He is the one!"
    Is it not true? I heard you often:
    In the silence did you not speak to me,
    Both when I helped the poor, and when
    With prayer I sought to ease and soften
    The pain inside my anguished head?
    And at this very moment, is it not you,
    Oh sweetest, lovely vision who
    In the night's transparency flits by
    And quietly nestles by the bed's head?
    And you, who with love and rapturously
    Whispered a word of hope to me?

    Who are you, my guardian angel?
    Or a wily devil, a tempter fatal?
    Disperse these doubts, this agony.
    Perhaps all this is nothingness,
    A foolish mind's self-aberration,
    And something other is fate's decree…
    So be it! Whatever my destiny,
    To you I give it from this day,
    Before you the tears roll down my cheek,
    And your protection I beseech…
    For consider: here I am alone,
    No one understands what I say,
    My reason tortures me every day,
    And silently I am doomed to perish.
    You I await: With a single glance
    Revive the hope that's in my heart,
    Cut short this heavy dream I cherish,
    Deserving, I know, reproach and scorn.


    I finish - I tremble to read it through,
    With shame and terror my heart sinks low,
    But your honour is my guarantee
    And to that I entrust my destiny.
    “I want the following word: splendor, splendor is fruit in all its succulence, fruit without sadness. I want vast distances. My savage intuition of myself.”
    Clarice Lispector

  40. #640
    Adam Strange's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2015
    Location
    Midwest, USA
    TIM
    ENTJ-1Te 8w7 sx/so
    Posts
    16,228
    Mentioned
    1553 Post(s)
    Tagged
    2 Thread(s)

    Default

    ^ In this article (https://www.the16types.info/vbulleti...Stratiyevskaya), Stratiyevskaya compared Onegin and Tatyana to Activity partners ILI and ESI. However, I think EIE fits Onegin better.

    Which is not to say that Mirage with the correct Erotic Attitudes can't go just as wrong as Activity. It can. It has.

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •