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Thread: Favorite poems and quotations.

  1. #561
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    Georg Trakl

    "En-route"

    In the evening they carried the stranger into the chamber of the dead;

    A smell of tar; the quiet rustling of red sycamores;

    The dark flight of the jackdaws; a guard entered the square.

    The sun has sunk into black linens; again and again this past evening returns.

    From an adjoining room, the sister plays a sonata from Schubert.

    Very quietly her smile sinks into the decayed fountain

    Which murmurs bluish in the dusk. O how old is our race.

    Somebody whispers down there in the garden; somebody has left this black sky.

    On the cabinet apples smell. Grandmother lights golden candles.

    O, how mild is the autumn. Quietly our steps sound in the old park

    Under tall trees. O, how serious is the hyacinthine countenance of the dusk.

    The blue spring by your feet, mysteriously the red silence of your mouth,

    Overshadowed by the slumber of foliage, the dark gold of decayed sunflowers.

    Your eyelids are heavy from poppy and dream quietly on my forehead.

    Soft bells tremble through the breast. A blue cloud,

    Your countenance has sunk over me in the dusk.

    A song with guitar, that sounds out in a strange inn,

    The wild elder bushes there, a long past November day,

    Familiar steps on the dusking staircase, the sight of brown rafters,

    An open window in which a sweet hope stayed behind -

    All this is unspeakable, o God, that one breaks down on the knees shaken.

    O, how dark is this night. A purple flame

    Expired at my mouth. In the stillness,

    The anxious soul's lonely string music dies down.

    Cease, when drunk with wine the head sinks into the gutter.


    Delirium

    The black snow which runs off the roofs;
    A red finger dips into your forehead

    Blue snow sinks in the bleak room,
    The deceased mirror of lovers.
    The head breaks in heavy pieces and ponders
    After the shadows in the mirror of blue snow,
    The cold smile of a dead strumpet.
    In the smell of carnations the evening wind weeps.

  2. #562
    LϺαο Not A Communist Shill's Avatar
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    Worstward Ho
    ~ Samuel Beckett




    On. Say on. Be said on. Somehow on. Till nohow on. Said nohow on.

    Say for be said. Missaid. From now say for missaid.

    Say a body. Where none. No mind. Where none. That at least. A place. Where none. For the body. To be in. Move in. Out of. Back into. No. No out. No back. Only in. Stay in. On in. Still.

    All of old. Nothing else ever. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.

    First the body. No. First the place. No. First both. Now either. Now the other. Sick of the either try the other. Sick of it back sick of the either. So on. Somehow on. Till sick of both. Throw up and go. Where neither. Till sick of there. Throw up and back. The body again. Where none. The place again. Where none. Try again. Fail again. Better again. Or better worse. Fail worse again. Still worse again. Till sick for good. Throw up for good. Go for good. Where neither for good. Good and all.

    It stands. What? Yes. Say it stands. Had to up in the end and stand. Say bones. No bones but say bones. Say ground. No ground but say ground. So as to say pain. No mind and pain? Say yes that the bones may pain till no choice but stand. Somehow up and stand. Or better worse remains. Say remains of mind where none to permit of pain. Pain of bones till no choice but up and stand. Somehow up. Somehow stand. Remains of mind where none for the sake of pain. Here of bones. Other examples if needs must. Of pain. Relief from. Change of.

    All of old. Nothing else ever. But never so failed. Worse failed. With care never worse failed.

    Dim light source unknown. Know minimum. Know nothing no. Too much to hope. At most mereminimum. Meremost minimum.

    No choice but stand. Somehow up and stand. Somehow stand. That or groan. The groan so long on itsway. No. No groan. Simply pain. Simply up. A time when try how. Try see. Try say. How first it lay. Then somehow knelt. Bit by bit. Then on from there. Bit by bit. Till up at last. Not now. Fail better worse now.

    Another. Say another. Head sunk on crippled hands. Vertex vertical. Eyes clenched. Seat of all. Germ of all.

    No future in this. Alas yes.

    It stands. See in the dim void how at last it stands. In the dim light source unknown. Before the downcast eyes. Clenched eyes. Staring eyes. Clenched staring eyes.

    That shade. Once lying. Now standing. That a body? Yes. Say that a body. Somehow standing. In the dim void.

    A place. Where none. A time when try see. Try say. How small. How vast. How if not boundless bounded.Whence the dim. Not now. Know better now. Unknow better now. Know only no out of. No knowing how know only no out of. Into only. Hence another. Another place where none. Whither once whence noreturn. No. No place but the one. None but the one where none. Whence never once in. Somehow in. Beyondless. Thenceless there. Thitherless there. Thenceless thitherless there.

    Where then but there see--

    See for be seen. Misseen. From now see for be misseen.

    Where then but there see now--

    First back turned the shade astand. In the dim void see first back turned the shade astand. Still.


    Where then but there see now another. Bit by bit an old man and child. In the dim void bit by bit an old man and child. Any other would do as ill.

    Hand in hand with equal plod they go. In the free hands - no. Free empty hands. Backs turned both bowed with equal plod they go. The child hand raised to reach the holding hand. Hold the old holding hand. Hold and be held. Plod on and never recede. Slowly with never a pause plod on and never recede.Backs turned. Both bowed. Joined by held joining hands. Plod on as one. One shade. Another shade.

    Head sunk on crippled hands. Clenched staring eyes. At in the dim void shades. One astand at rest. One old man and child. At rest plodding on. Any others would do as ill. Almost any. Almost as ill.

    They fade. Now the one. Now the twain. Now both. Fade back. Now the one. Now the twain. Now both. Fade? No. Sudden go. Sudden back. Now the one. Now the twain. Now both.

    Unchanged? Sudden back unchanged? Yes. Say yes. Each time unchanged. Somehow unchanged. Till no. Till say no. Sudden back changed. Somehow changed. Each time somehow changed.

    The dim. The void. Gone too? Back too? No. Say no. Never gone. Never back. Till yes. Till say yes. Gone too. Back too. The dim. The void. Now the one. Now the other. Now both. Sudden gone. Sudden back.Unchanged? Sudden back unchanged? Yes. Say yes. Each time unchanged. Somehow unchanged. Till no. Till say no. Sudden back changed. Somehow changed. Each time somehow changed.

    First sudden gone the one. First sudden back. Unchanged. Say now unchanged. So far unchanged. Back turned. Head sunk. Vertex vertical in hat. Cocked back of black brim alone. Back of black greatcoat cut off midthigh. Kneeling. Better kneeling. Better worse kneeling. Say now kneeling. From now kneeling. Could rise but to its knees. Sudden gone sudden back unchanged back turned head sunk dark shade on unseen knees. Still.

    Next sudden gone the twain. Next sudden back. Say now unchanged. So far unchanged. Backs turned.Heads sunk. Dim hair. Dim white and hair so fair that in that dim light dim white. Black greatcoats to heels. Dim black. Bootheels. Now the two right. Now the two left. As on with equal plod they go. No ground. Plod as on void. Dim hands. Dim white. Two free and two as one. So sudden gone sudden back unchanged as one dark shade plod unreceding on.

    The dim. Far and wide the same. High and low. Unchanging. Say now unchanging. Whence no knowing.No saying. Say only such dim light as never. On all. Say a grot in that void. A gulf. Then in that grot or gulfsuch dimmest light as never. Whence no knowing. No saying.

    The void. Unchanging. Say now unchanging. Void were not the one. The twain. So far were not the one and twain. So far.

    The void. How try say? How try fail? No try no fail. Say only--

    First the bones. On back to them. Preying since first said on foresaid remains. The ground. The pain. No bones. No ground. No pain. Why up unknown. At all costs unknown. If ever down. No choice but up if ever down. Or never down. Forever kneeling. Better forever kneeling. Better worse forever kneeling. Say from now forever kneeling. So far from now forever kneeling. So far.

    The void. Before the staring eyes. Stare where they may. Far and wide. High and low. That narrow field.Know no more. See no more. Say no more. That alone. That little much of void alone.

    On back to unsay void can go. Void cannot go. Save dim go. Then all go. All not already gone. Till dim back. Then all back. All not still gone. The one can go. The twain can go. Dim can go. Void cannot go. Save dim go. Then all go.

    On back better worse to fail the head said seat of all. Germ of all. All? If of all of it too. Where if not there it too? There in the sunken head the sunken head. The hands. The eyes. Shade with the other shades. In the same dim. The same narrow void. Before the staring eyes. Where it too if not there too? Ask not. No. Ask in vain. Better worse so.

    The head. Ask not if it can go. Say no. Unasking no. It cannot go. Save dim go. Then all go. Oh dim go. Go for good. All for good. Good and all.

    Whose words? Ask in vain. Or not in vain if say no knowing. No saying. No words for him whose words. Him? One. No words for one whose words. One? It. No words for it whose words. Better worse so.

    Something not wrong with one. Meaning - meaning! - meaning the kneeling one. From now one for the kneeling one. As from now two for the twain. The as one plodding twain. As from now three for the head.The head as first said missaid. So from now. For to gain time. Time to lose. Gain time to lose. As the soul once. The world once.

    Something not wrong with one. Then with two. Then with three. So on. Something not wrong with all. Far from wrong. Far far from wrong.

    The words too whosesoever. What room for worse! How almost true they sometimes almost ring! How wanting in inanity! Say the night is young alas and take heart. Or better worse say still a watch of night alas to come. A rest of last watch to come. And take heart.

    First one. First try fail better one. Something there badly not wrong. Not that as it is it is not bad. The noface bad. The no hands bad. The no -. Enough. A pox on bad. Mere bad. Way for worse. Pending worse still. First worse. Mere worse. Pending worse still. Add a -. Add? Never. Bow it down. Be it bowed down. Deep down. Head in hat gone. More back gone. Greatcoat cut off higher. Nothing from pelvis down.Nothing but bowed back. Topless baseless hindtrunk. Dim black. On unseen knees. In the dim void. Better worse so. Pending worse still.

    Next try fail better two. The twain. Bad as it is as it is. Bad the no--

    First back on to three. Not yet to try worsen. Simply be there again. There in that head in that head. Be it again. That head in that head. Clenched eyes clamped to it alone. Alone? No. Too. To it too. The sunken skull. The crippled hands. Clenched staring eyes. Be that shade again. In that shade again. With the other shades. Worsening shades. In the dim void.

    Next--

    First how all at once. In that stare. The worsened one. The worsening two. And what yet to worsen. To try to worsen. Itself. The dim. The void. All at once in that stare. Clenched eyes clamped to all.

    Next two. From bad to worsen. Try worsen. From merely bad. Add -. Add? Never. The boots. Better worse bootless. Bare heels. Now the two right. Now the two left. Left right left right on. Barefoot unreceding on. Better worse so. A little better worse than nothing so.

    Next the so-said seat and germ of all. Those hands! That head! That near true ring! Away. Full face from now. No hands. No face. Skull and stare alone. Scene and seer of all.

    On. Stare on. Say on. Be on. Somehow on. Anyhow on. Till dim gone. At long last gone. All at long last gone. For bad and all. For poor best worst and all.

    Dim whence unknown. At all costs unknown. Unchanging. Say now unchanging. Far and wide. High and low. Say a pipe in that void. A tube. Sealed. Then in that pipe or tube that selfsame dim. Old dim. Whenever what else? Where all always to be seen. Of the nothing to be seen. Dimly seen. Nothing ever unseen. Of the nothing to be seen. Dimly seen. Worsen that?

    Next the so-said void. The so-missaid. That narrow field. Rife with shades. Well so-missaid. Shade-ridden void. How better worse so-missay?

    Add others. Add? Never. Till if needs must. Nothing to those so far. Dimly so far. Them only lessen. But with them as they lessen others. As they worsen. If needs must. Others to lessen. To worsen. Till dim go.At long last go. For worst and all.

    On. Somehow on. Anyhow on. Say all gone. So on. In the skull all gone. All? No. All cannot go. Till dim go. Say then but the two gone. In the skull one and two gone. From the void. From the stare. In the skill all save the skull gone. The stare. Alone in the dim void. Alone to be seen. Dimly seen. In the skull the skull alone to be seen. The staring eyes. Dimly seen. By the staring eyes. The others gone. Long sudden gone. Then sudden back. Unchanged. Say now unchanged. First one. Then two. Or first two. Then one. Or together. Then all again together. The bowed back. The plodding twain. The skull. The stare. All back in the skull together. Unchanged. Stare clamped to all. In the dim void.

    The eyes. Time to--

    First on back to unsay dim can go. Somehow on back. Dim cannot go. Dim to go must go for good. True then dim can go. If but for good. One can go not for good. Two too. Three no if not for good. With dim gone for good. Void no if not for good. With all gone for good. Dim can worsen. Somehow worsen. Go no. If not for good.

    The eyes. Time to try worsen. Somehow try worsen. Unclench. Say staring open. All white and pupil. Dim white. White? No. All pupil. Dim black holes. Unwavering gaping. Be they so said. With worsening words.From now so. Better than nothing so bettered for the worse.

    Still dim still on. So long as still dim still somehow on. Anyhow on. With worsening words. Worsening stare. For the nothing to be seen. At the nothing to be seen. Dimly seen. As now by way of somehow on where in the nowhere all together? All three together. Where there all three as last worse seen? Bowed back alone. Barefoot plodding twain. Skull and lidless stare. Where in the narrow vast? Say only vasts apart. In that narrow void vasts of void apart. Worse better later.

    What when words gone? None for what then. But say by way of somehow on somehow with sight to do.With less of sight. Still dim and yet -. No. Nohow so on. Say better worse words gone when nohow on.Still dim and nohow on. All seen and nohow on. What words for what then? None for what then. No words for what when words gone. For what when nohow on. Somehow nohow on.

    Worsening words whose unknown. Whence unknown. At all costs unknown. Now for to say as worst they may only they only they. Dim void shades all they. Nothing save what they say. Somehow say. Nothing save they. What they say. Whosesoever whencesoever say. As worst they may fail ever worse to say.

    Remains of mind then still. Enough still. Some whose somewhere somehow enough still. No mind and no words? Even such words. So enough still. Just enough still to joy. Joy! Just enough still to joy that only they. Only!

    Enough still not to know. Not to know what they say. Not to know what it is the words it says say. Says? Secretes. Say better worse secretes. What it is the words it secretes say. What the so-said void. The so-said dim. The so-said shades. The so-said seat and germ of all. Enough to know no knowing. No knowing what it is the words it secretes say. No saying. No saying what it is they somehow say.

    That said on back to try worse say the plodding twain. Preying since last worse said on foresaid remains.But what not on them preying? What seen? What said? What of all seen and said not on them preying? True. True! And yet say worst perhaps worst of all the old man and child. That shade at last worse seen.Left right left right barefoot unreceding on. They then the words. Back to them now for want of better on and better fail. Worser fail that perhaps of all the least. Least worse failed of all the worse failed shades.Less worse than the bowed back alone. The skull and lidless stare. Though they too for worse. But whatnot for worse. True. True! And yet say first the worst perhaps worst of all the old man and child. Worst in need of worse. Worst in--

    Blanks for nohow on. How long? Blanks how long till somehow on? Again somehow on. All gone when nohow on. Time gone when nohow on.

    Worse less. By no stretch more. Worse for want of better less. Less best. No. Naught best. Best worse.No. Not best worse. Naught not best worse. Less best worse. No. Least. Least best worse. Least never to be naught. Never to naught be brought. Never by naught be nulled. Unnullable least. Say that best worst. With leastening words say least best worse. For want of worser worse. Unlessenable least best worse.


    The twain. The hands. Held holding hands. That almost ring! As when first said on crippled hands the head. Crippled hands! They there then the words. Here now held holding. As when first said. Ununsaid when worse said. Away. Held holding hands!

    The empty too. Away. No hands in the--. No. Save for worse to say. Somehow worse somehow to say. Say for now still seen. Dimly seen. Dim white. Two dim white empty hands. In the dim void.

    So leastward on. So long as dim still. Dim undimmed. Or dimmed to dimmer still. To dimmost dim. Leastmost in dimmost dim. Utmost dim. Leastmost in utmost dim. Unworsenable worst.

    What words for what then? How almost they still ring. As somehow from some soft of mind they ooze. From it in it ooze. How all but uninane. To last unlessenable least how loath to leasten. For then in utmost dim to unutter leastmost all.

    So little worse the old man and child. Gone held holding hands they plod apart. Left right barefoot unreceding on. Not worsen yet the rift. Save for some after nohow somehow worser on.

    On back to unsay clamped to all the stare. No but from now to now this and now that. As now from worsened twain to next for worse alone. To skull and stare alone. Of the two worse in want the skull preying since unsunk. Now say the fore alone. No dome. Temple to temple alone. Clamped to it and stare alone the stare. Bowed back alone and twain blurs in the void. So better than nothing worse shade three from now.

    Somehow again on back to the bowed back alone. Nothing to show a woman's and yet a woman's. Oozed from softening soft the word woman's. The words old woman's. The words nothing to show bowed back alone a woman's and yet a woman's. So better worse from now that shade a woman's. An old woman's.

    Next fail see say how dim undimmed to worsen. How nohow save to dimmer still. But but a shade so aswhen after nohow somehow on to dimmer still. Till dimmost dim. Best bad worse of all. Save somehow undimmed worser still.

    Ooze on back not to unsay but say again the vasts apart. Say seen again. No worse again. The vasts of void apart. Of all so far missaid the worse missaid. So far. Not till nohow worse missay say worsemissaid. Not till for good nohow on poor worst missaid.

    Longing the so-said mind long lost to longing. The so-missaid. So far so-missaid. Dint of long longing lostto longing. Long vain longing. And longing still. Faintly longing still. Faintly vainly longing still. For fainterstill. For faintest. Faintly vainly longing for the least of longing. Unlessenable least of longing. Unstillable vain least of longing still.

    Longing that all go. Dim go. Void go. Longing go. Vain longing that vain longing go.Said is missaid. Whenever said said said missaid. From now said alone. No more from now now said andnow missaid. From now said alone. Said for missaid. For be missaid.

    Back is on. Somehow on. From now back alone. No more from now now back and now back on. From now back alone. Back for back on. Back for somehow on.

    Back unsay better worse by no stretch more. If more dim less light then better worse more dim. Unsaid then better worse by no stretch more. Better worse may no less than less be more. Better worse what? The say? The said? Same thing. Same nothing. Same all but nothing.

    No once. No once in pastless now. No not none. When before worse the shades? The dim before more? When if not once? Onceless alone the void. By no stretch more. By none less. Onceless till no more.

    Ooze back try worsen blanks. Those then when nohow on. Unsay then all gone. All not gone. Only nohow on. All not gone and nohow on. All there as now when somehow on. The dim. The void. The shades. Only words gone. Ooze gone. Till ooze again and on. Somehow ooze on.

    Preying since last worse the stare. Something there still far so far from wrong. So far far far from wrong.Try better worse another stare when with words than when not. When somehow than when nohow. While all seen the same. No not all seen the same. Seen other. By the same other stare seen other. When with words than when not. When somehow than when nohow. How fail say how other seen?

    Less. Less seen. Less seeing. Less seen and seeing when with words than when not. When somehow than when nohow. Stare by words dimmed. Shades dimmed. Void dimmed. Dim dimmed. All there as when no words. As when nohow. Only all dimmed. Till blank again. No words again. Nohow again. Then all undimmed. Stare undimmed. That words had dimmed.

    Back unsay shades can go. Go and come again. No. Shades cannot go. Much less come again. Nor bowed old woman's back. Nor old man and child. Nor fore skull and and stare. Blur yes. Shades can blur.When stare clamped to one alone. Or somehow words again. Go no nor come again. Till dim if ever go.Never to come again.

    Blanks for when words gone. When nohow on. Then all seen as only then. Undimmed. All undimmed that words dim. All so seen unsaid. No ooze then. No trace on soft when from it ooze again. In it ooze again.Ooze alone for seen as seen with ooze. Dimmed. No ooze for seen undimmed. For when nohow on. No ooze for when ooze gone.

    Back try worsen twain preying since last worse. Since atwain. Two once so one. From now rift a vast. Vast of void atween. With equal plod still unreceding on. That little better worse. Till words for worser still.Worse words for worser still.

    Preying but what not preying? When not preying? Nohow over words again say what then when not preying. Each better worse for naught. No stilling preying. The shades. The dim. The void. All alwaysfaintly preying. Worse for naught. No less than when but bad all always faintly preying. Gnawing.

    Gnawing to be gone. Less no good. Worse no good. Only one good. Gone. Gone for good. Till then gnaw on. All gnaw on. To be gone.

    All save void. No. Void too. Unworsenable void. Never less. Never more. Never since first said never unsaid never worse said never not gnawing to be gone.

    Say child gone. As good as gone. From the void. From the stare. Void then not that much more? Say oldman gone. Old woman gone. As good as gone. Void then not that much more again? No. Void mostwhen almost. Worst when almost. Less then? All shades as good as gone. If then not that much morethan that much less then? Less worse then? Enough. A pox on void. Unmoreable unlessableunworseable evermost almost void.

    Back to once so-said two as one. Preying ever since not long since last failed worse. Ever since vastatween. Say better worse now all gone save trunks from now. Nothing from pelves down. From napes up.Topless baseless hindtrunks. Legless plodding on. Left right unreceding on.

    Stare clamped to stare. Bowed backs blurs in stare clamped to stare. Two black holes. Dim black. In through skull to soft. Out from soft through skull. Agape in unseen face. That the flaw? The want of flaw?Try better worse set in skull. Two black holes in foreskull. Or one. Try better still worse one. One dimblack hole mid-foreskull. Into the hell of all. Out from the hell of all. So better than nothing worse say starefrom now.

    Stare outstared away to old man hindtrunk unreceding on. Try better worse kneeling. Legs gone say better worse kneeling. No more if ever on. Say never. Say never on. Ever kneeling. Legs gone from staresay better worse ever kneeling. Stare away to child and worsen same. Vast void apart old man and child dim shades on unseen knees. One blur. One clear. Dim clear. Now the one. Now the other.

    Nothing to show a child and yet a child. A man and yet a man. Old and yet old. Nothing but ooze how nothing and yet. One bowed back yet an old man's. The other yet a child's. A small child's.

    Somehow again and all in stare again. All at once as once. Better worse all. The three bowed down. The stare. The whole narrow void. No blurs. All clear. Dim clear. Black hole agape on all. Inletting all. Outletting all.

    Nothing and yet a woman. Old and yet old. On unseen knees. Stooped as loving memory some old gravestones stoop. In that old graveyard. Names gone and when to when. Stoop mute over the graves of none.

    Same stoop for all. Same vasts apart. Such last state. Latest state. Till somehow less in vain. Worse invain. All gnawing to be naught. Never to be naught.

    What were skull to go? As good as go. Into what then black hole? From out what then? What why of all? Better worse so? No. Skull better worse. What left of skull. Of soft. Worst why of all of all. So skull not go.What left of skull not go. Into it still the hole. Into what left of soft. From out what little left.

    Enough. Sudden enough. Sudden all far. No move and sudden all far. All least. Three pins. One pinhole.In dimmost dim. Vasts apart. At bounds of boundless void. Whence no farther. Best worse no farther.Nohow less. Nohow worse. Nohow naught. Nohow on.

    Said nohow on.

  3. #563
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    All freedoms are supportive. You can't offend one without offending them all.

    Filippo Turati




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    Thich Nhat Hanh

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    "Sister, sister, go to bed!
    Go and rest your weary head."
    Thus the prudent brother said.

    "Do you want a battered hide,
    Or scratches to your face applied?"
    Thus his sister calm replied.

    "Sister, do not raise my wrath.
    I'd make you into mutton broth
    As easily as kill a moth."

    The sister raised her beaming eye
    And looked on him indignantly
    And sternly answered, "Only try!"

    Off to the cook he quickly ran.
    "Dear Cook, please lend a frying-pan
    To me as quickly as you can."

    "And wherefore should I lend it you?"
    "The reason, Cook, is plain to view.
    I wish to make an Irish stew."

    "What meat is in that stew to go?"
    "My sister'll be the contents!"
    "Oh?"
    "You'll lend the pan to me, Cook?"
    "No!"

    Moral: Never stew your sister.


    - Lewis Carroll
    “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

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    "But the ancients, greater, nobler, and stronger than us as they always were, finding themselves overwhelmed by events, and thinking on their inevitability, the invincible power of the forces that made them wretched and that fastened and bound them to their wretchedness so that it was impossible to turn things round or escape, nurtured a hatred and fury against fate and cursed the Gods, declared war almost against the heavens, powerless though they were and with no hope of victory or revenge, but still not subdued or tamed, or any less determined to take their revenge, quite the contrary in fact, more determined than ever the greater the wretchedness and the more it was inevitable." - Giacomo Leopardi, Zibaldone

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    From my early reading of Faery Tales, & Genii &c &c — my mind had been habituated to the Vast — & I never regarded my senses in any way as the criteria of my belief. I regulated all my creeds by my conceptions not by my sight — even at that age. Should children be permitted to read Romances, & Relations of Giants & Magicians, & Genii? — I know all that has been said against it; but I have formed my faith in the affirmative. — I know no other way of giving the mind a love of “the Great,” & “the Whole.” — Those who have been led by the same truths step by step thro’ the constant testimony of their senses, seem to me to want a sense which I possess — They contemplate nothing but parts — and all parts are necessarily little — and the Universe to them is but a mass of little things. It is true, the mind may become credulous and prone to superstition by the former method; — but are not the experimentalists credulous even to madness in believing any absurdity, rather than believe the grandest truths, if they have not the testimony of their own senses in their favor? I have known some who have been rationally educated, as it is styled. They were marked by a microscopic acuteness; but when they looked at great things, all became a blank, and they saw nothing, and denied that any thing could be seen, and uniformly put the negative of a power for the possession of a power, and called the want of imagination judgment, and the never being moved to rapture philosophy.
    – Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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    “Clear thinking requires courage rather than intelligence.”
    — Thomas Szasz

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    “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

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    Default Favorite poems and quotations

    Whats sad is the illiteracy of music history...Anyone who doesnt say beethoven is their favorite composer, doesnt understand shit about musicThe guy singlehandedly changed the entire world of music... And he did it while vomiting fucking blood every day... And feeling like super-shit... And he was fucking deafWhen the Beatles sing roll over beethoven, what douchbagsThey would be nothing without beethoven

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    Quote Originally Posted by ashlesha View Post
    “Clear thinking requires courage rather than intelligence.”
    — Thomas Szasz
    What do you think of Szasz’s views on mental illness?

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    Uncertainty by Adam Mickiewicz


    Away from thee I never weep nor sigh,
    And lose I not my mind when thou art nigh.
    But if for a while I have no word with thee,
    There's something missing, someone I must see.
    I wonder, yearning thus for days on end:
    Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

    When thou hast gone, I cannot in my mind
    Recall thy face though gentle so and kind.
    However, oft I feel, yet wish it not,
    That it is somewhere really near my thought.
    And all these doubts of mine may never end:
    Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

    I suffered much, but reckoned not, as yet,
    To go and let thee know my sad regret.
    With no idea where my feet should go,
    How come I find thy house I do not know;
    And neither at thy door my doubts may end:
    Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

    To save thy health, my life I would expend;
    To grant thee peace, to Hell I would descend.
    Though in my heart no bold desires I nest,
    Do know that I would be thy health and rest.
    But still these doubts of mine may never end:
    Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

    And when thy hand lies gently in my palm,
    My mind grows quiet, and my soul is calm;
    Meseems my life may in this sleep depart,
    But wakes me up the beating of thy heart,
    And thus return my doubts that know no end:
    Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

    Composing this my song for thee, my mind
    Was not to any bardic mood inclined;
    I am amazed myself, it baffles me
    How I have found the thoughts and rhymes for thee,
    To finally write these doubts that may not end:
    Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?
    “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

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    Quote Originally Posted by FreelancePoliceman View Post
    What do you think of Szasz’s views on mental illness?
    I've never even heard of him (just happened to come across that quote), so googled.

    From what I can gather, his argument against mental illness is just that its an existential barrier of sorts instead of a disease, which I think is sometimes true depending on the issue, but also that this means it should receive different sorts of treatment than offered (or at least offered in the 50s) involving coming to terms with being human, blah blah.

    Vaguely interesting, kinda sounds like kumbaya bs but maybe there's something to it, would need to know more to offer a complete opinion. If there's something I summarized in error or info u think I should know, I'm open (:

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    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
    Super-Victim, probably Sx-first. Lots of idealism and abstract absolutes. IEI?

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    Quote Originally Posted by Adam Strange View Post
    Super-Victim, probably Sx-first. Lots of idealism and abstract absolutes. IEI?
    Idk, would u say victim types can find that need meet in earthly ways? I thought it pretty closely mirrored my desire (still unsatisfied) to believe in religion.

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    Quote Originally Posted by ashlesha View Post
    Idk, would u say victim types can find that need meet in earthly ways? I thought it pretty closely mirrored my desire (still unsatisfied) to believe in religion.


    Yes. It can be met in very earthly ways. Lol. I often see SLE's state that they will "get duals"/"be successful" by acting like superheroes. The SLE HA is "to be loved", worshiped and adored. So IEI Victims tend to adore the objects of their affection. Sexually, I think IEI's want to be dominated. They are either on their knees or are artfully dodging. But any type can have some shade of that.

    I don't think every Victim type is so extremely like IEI's, at least not to the same extent of "adoring" their mates or God or some metaphysical concept. Personally, I want my SO to be healthy (4D Si) and strong (3D Se) and assertive in the real world, but I'm not going to worship or blindly adore them or automatically subjugate my wishes to theirs. My duals tend to lack direction and foresight, and so should not be the only driver of the car.

    Your desire "to believe" is also stated to be the HA of ESI's and LSI's. 2D Ni, in other words.

    From what I have seen of ESI's and LSI's, their desire "to believe" isn't a desire to believe in a god or a superior power so much as it is a need to be assured of a secure future. That is the "believe" part. I feel that this misinterpretation started as an imperfect translation from the Russian or something, and just hasn't been corrected yet.

    If you find yourself doubting that religion can provide you with a secure future, then you should try Money.
    Hey, don't you work in a Bank?
    Last edited by Adam Strange; 08-02-2019 at 12:45 PM.

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    “Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.”
    Shakespeare, Macbeth
    ♓︎ 𝓅𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓈 ♓︎ 𝓅𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓈
    ♍︎ 𝓋𝒾𝓇𝑔𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 ♍︎

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    Default J.R.R. Tolkien

    Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement.

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    You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain of your own story
    ♓︎ 𝓅𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓈 ♓︎ 𝓅𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓈
    ♍︎ 𝓋𝒾𝓇𝑔𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 ♍︎

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    Hai Zi, "Wine Cup: A Bouquet of Love Poems"

    1. Fire Lips

    Twenty thousand wine cups are born of you
    The sicknesses of ten thousand things are born of you

    2. Moon
    Silent living sickle-shaped fire
    rolls on the wilderness, a burning skull
    Silent living sickle-shaped pasture
    cryptic, cold and still.

    3. Breasts
    Egyptian river
    in Egyptian midnight
    — this black wine

    this black wine turns into my hands
    4. Blindness
    Hands in the orchard
    are no longer lonely
    Two hands of my own
    pregnant with other hands

    5. Fire Lips
    That is a flower That is a wine cup made of a skull
    Wine cups knock above the grassland
    The wine-filled skull is empty

    On the fire-blackened mountain
    tents are born and die.

    Out of the fire rise lamplights that shine on the earth.

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    “I and the public know
    What all schoolchildren learn,
    Those to whom evil is done
    Do evil in return.”


    W. H. Auden, Collected Poems

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    Oh my goodness. Saw this on tumblr and added the book to my Amazon cart.


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    “She walks in beauty like the night
    Of cloudless climes and starry skies
    And all that’s best of dark and light
    Meet in her aspect and her eyes” - Lord Byron from She Walks in Beauty

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    “The seed of suffering in you might be strong, but don’t wait until you have no more suffering before allowing yourself to be happy” - Thich Nhat Hanh

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    “I paint flowers so they will not die.” - Frida Kahlo. This resonates with me a lot in terms of grief I have experienced

    2DAC0D4B-D262-4D72-B059-ED615298D852.jpeg

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    “A painter doesn’t draw the place where he himself is. But looking at his painting, I know his position in relation to the things he has drawn. On the contrary, if he represents himself in his painting, I know with certainty that the place he shows himself to be isn’t the one where he is.”

    Simone Weil, first and last notebooks

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    A Paleolithic Fertility Fetish by Wisława Szymborska

    The Great Mother has no face

    Why would the Great Mother need a face.

    The face cannot stay faithful to the body,

    the face disturbs the body, it is undivine,

    it disturbs the body’s solemn unity.

    The Great Mother’s visage is her bulging belly

    With its blind navel in the middle.



    The Great Mother has no feet.

    What would the Great Mother do with feet

    Where is she going to go.

    Why would she go into the world’s details.

    She has gone just as far as she wants

    and keeps watch in the workshops under her taut skin.



    So there's a world out there? Well and good.

    It's bountiful? Even better.

    The children have somewhere to go, to run around,

    something to look up to? Wonderful.

    So much that it's still there while they're sleeping,

    almost ridiculously whole and real?

    It keeps on existing when their backs are turned?

    That's just too much--it shouldn't have.



    The Great Mother barely has a pair of arms,

    two tiny limbs lie lazing on her breasts.

    Why would they want to bless life,

    give gifts to what has enough and more!

    Their only obligation is to endure as long as earth and sky just in case

    of some mishap that never comes.

    To form a zigzag over essence.

    The ornament’s last laugh.

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    —The Master said, “The man of virtue makes the difficulty to be overcome his first business, and success only a subsequent consideration;—this may be called perfect virtue.”
    4w3-5w6-8w7

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    http://classics.mit.edu/Khayyam/rubaiyat.html


    The Rubaiyat

    By Omar Khayyam

    Written 1120 A.C.E.



    I
    Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight
    The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
    Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes
    The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light.


    II
    Before the phantom of False morning died,
    Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,
    "When all the Temple is prepared within,
    Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside?"


    III
    And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
    The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door!
    You know how little while we have to stay,
    And, once departed, may return no more."


    IV
    Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
    The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
    Where the White Hand Of Moses on the Bough
    Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.


    V
    Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,
    And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
    But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,
    And many a Garden by the Water blows,


    VI
    And David's lips are lockt; but in divine
    High-piping Pehlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!
    Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose
    That sallow cheek of hers t' incarnadine.


    VII
    Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
    Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling:
    The Bird of Time has but a little way
    To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing.


    VIII
    Whether at Naishapur or Babylon,
    Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,
    The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,
    The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.


    IX
    Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say;
    Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?
    And this first Summer month that brings the Rose
    Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.


    X
    Well, let it take them! What have we to do
    With Kaikobad the Great, or Kaikhosru?
    Let Zal and Rustum bluster as they will,
    Or Hatim call to Supper--heed not you


    XI
    With me along the strip of Herbage strown
    That just divides the desert from the sown,
    Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot--
    And Peace to Mahmud on his golden Throne!


    XII
    A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
    A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
    Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
    Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!


    XIII
    Some for the Glories of This World; and some
    Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come;
    Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go,
    Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!


    XIV
    Look to the blowing Rose about us--"Lo,
    Laughing," she says, "into the world I blow,
    At once the silken tassel of my Purse
    Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."


    XV
    And those who husbanded the Golden grain,
    And those who flung it to the winds like Rain,
    Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd
    As, buried once, Men want dug up again.


    XVI
    The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
    Turns Ashes--or it prospers; and anon,
    Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
    Lighting a little hour or two--is gone.


    XVII
    Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai
    Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day,
    How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp
    Abode his destined Hour, and went his way.


    XVIII
    They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
    The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep:
    And Bahram, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass
    Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.


    XIX
    I sometimes think that never blows so red
    The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
    That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
    Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.


    X
    And this reviving Herb whose tender Green
    Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean--
    Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
    From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!


    XXI
    Ah, my Belov'ed fill the Cup that clears
    To-day Past Regrets and Future Fears:
    To-morrow!--Why, To-morrow I may be
    Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years.


    XXII
    For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
    That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,
    Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
    And one by one crept silently to rest.


    XXIII
    And we, that now make merry in the Room
    They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom
    Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
    Descend--ourselves to make a Couch--for whom?


    XXIV
    Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
    Before we too into the Dust descend;
    Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie
    Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End!


    XXV
    Alike for those who for To-day prepare,
    And those that after some To-morrow stare,
    A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries
    "Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There."


    XXVI
    Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
    Of the Two Worlds so wisely--they are thrust
    Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn
    Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.


    XXVII
    Myself when young did eagerly frequent
    Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument
    About it and about: but evermore
    Came out by the same door where in I went.


    XXVIII
    With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,
    And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow;
    And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd--
    "I came like Water, and like Wind I go."


    XXIX
    Into this Universe, and Why not knowing
    Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing;
    And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
    I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.


    XXX
    What, without asking, hither hurried Whence?
    And, without asking, Whither hurried hence!
    Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine
    Must drown the memory of that insolence!


    XXXI
    Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate
    rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate;
    And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road;
    But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.


    XXXII
    There was the Door to which I found no Key;
    There was the Veil through which I might not see:
    Some little talk awhile of Me and Thee
    There was--and then no more of Thee and Me.


    XXXIII
    Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn
    In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn;
    Nor rolling Heaven, with all his Signs reveal'd
    And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn.


    XXXIV
    Then of the Thee in Me works behind
    The Veil, I lifted up my hands to find
    A Lamp amid the Darkness; and I heard,
    As from Without--"The Me Within Thee Blind!"


    XXXV
    Then to the lip of this poor earthen Urn
    I lean'd, the Secret of my Life to learn:
    And Lip to Lip it murmur'd--"While you live
    Drink!--for, once dead, you never shall return."


    XXXVI
    I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
    Articulation answer'd, once did live,
    And drink; and Ah! the passive Lip I kiss'd,
    How many Kisses might it take--and give!


    XXXVII
    For I remember stopping by the way
    To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay:
    And with its all-obliterated Tongue
    It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!"


    XXXVIII
    And has not such a Story from of Old
    Down Man's successive generations roll'd
    Of such a clod of saturated Earth
    Cast by the Maker into Human mould?


    XXXIX
    And not a drop that from our Cups we throw
    For Earth to drink of, but may steal below
    To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye
    There hidden--far beneath, and long ago.


    XL
    As then the Tulip for her morning sup
    Of Heav'nly Vintage from the soil looks up,
    Do you devoutly do the like, till Heav'n
    To Earth invert you--like an empty Cup.


    XLI
    Perplext no more with Human or Divine,
    To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign,
    And lose your fingers in the tresses of
    The Cypress--slender Minister of Wine.


    XLII
    And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press
    End in what All begins and ends in--Yes;
    Think then you are To-day what Yesterday
    You were--To-morrow You shall not be less.


    XLIII
    So when that Angel of the darker Drink
    At last shall find you by the river-brink,
    And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul
    Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shrink.


    XLIV
    Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
    And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
    Were't not a Shame--were't not a Shame for him
    In this clay carcase crippled to abide?


    XLV
    'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest
    A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest;
    The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash
    Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest.


    XLVI
    And fear not lest Existence closing your
    Account, and mine, should know the like no more;
    The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour'd
    Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.


    XLVII
    When You and I behind the Veil are past,
    Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last,
    Which of our Coming and Departure heeds
    As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast.


    XLVIII
    A Moment's Halt--a momentary taste
    Of Being from the Well amid the Waste--
    And Lo!--the phantom Caravan has reach'd
    The Nothing it set out from--Oh, make haste!


    XLIX
    Would you that spangle of Existence spend
    About the Secret--Quick about it, Friend!
    A Hair perhaps divides the False and True--
    And upon what, prithee, may life depend?


    L
    A Hair perhaps divides the False and True;
    Yes; and a single Alif were the clue--
    Could you but find it--to the Treasure-house,
    And peradventure to The Master too;


    LI
    Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins
    Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains;
    Taking all shapes from Mah to Mahi; and
    They change and perish all--but He remains;


    LII
    A moment guess'd--then back behind the Fold
    Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd
    Which, for the Pastime of Eternity,
    He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold.


    LIII
    But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor
    Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door
    You gaze To-day, while You are You--how then
    To-morrow, You when shall be You no more?


    LIV
    Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit
    Of This and That endeavour and dispute;
    Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape
    Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.


    LV
    You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse
    I made a Second Marriage in my house;
    Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed
    And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.


    LVI
    For "Is" and "Is-not" though with Rule and Line
    And "Up" and "Down" by Logic I define,
    Of all that one should care to fathom,
    Was never deep in anything but--Wine.


    LVII
    Ah, but my Computations, People say,
    Reduced the Year to better reckoning?--Nay
    'Twas only striking from the Calendar
    Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday.


    LVIII
    And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,
    Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape
    Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and
    He bid me taste of it; and 'twas--the Grape!


    LIX
    The Grape that can with Logic absolute
    The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
    The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice
    Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute:


    LX
    The mighty Mahmud, Allah-breathing Lord
    That all the misbelieving and black Horde
    Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul
    Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword.


    LXI
    Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare
    Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare?
    A Blessing, we should use it, should we not?
    And if a Curse--why, then, Who set it there?


    LXII
    I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must,
    Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust,
    Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink,
    To fill the Cup--when crumbled into Dust!


    LXIII
    Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise!
    One thing at least is certain--This Life flies;
    One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
    The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.


    LXIV
    Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who
    Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through,
    Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
    Which to discover we must travel too.


    LXV
    The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd
    Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd,
    Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep,
    They told their comrades, and to Sleep return'd.


    LXVI
    I sent my Soul through the Invisible,
    Some letter of that After-life to spell:
    And by and by my Soul return'd to me,
    And answer'd "I Myself am Heav'n and Hell:"


    LXVII
    Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire,
    And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire,
    Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves,
    So late emerged from, shall so soon expire.


    LXVIII
    We are no other than a moving row
    Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go
    Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held
    In Midnight by the Master of the Show;


    LXIX
    But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays
    Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days;
    Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays,
    And one by one back in the Closet lays.


    LXX
    The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes,
    But Here or There as strikes the Player goes;
    And He that toss'd you down into the Field,
    He knows about it all--He knows--HE knows!


    LXXI
    The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
    Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
    Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
    Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.


    LXXII
    And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,
    Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die,
    Lift not your hands to It for help--for It
    As impotently moves as you or I.


    LXXIII
    With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead,
    And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed:
    And the first Morning of Creation wrote
    What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.


    LXXIV
    Yesterday This Day's Madness did prepare;
    To-morrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair:
    Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why:
    Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.


    LXXV
    I tell you this--When, started from the Goal,
    Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal
    Of Heav'n Parwin and Mushtari they flung
    In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul.


    LXXVI
    The Vine had struck a fibre: which about
    If clings my being--let the Dervish flout;
    Of my Base metal may be filed a Key,
    That shall unlock the Door he howls without.


    LXXVII
    And this I know: whether the one True Light
    Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite,
    One Flash of It within the Tavern caught
    Better than in the Temple lost outright.


    LXXVIII
    What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke
    A conscious Something to resent the yoke
    Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain
    Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke!


    LXXIX
    What! from his helpless Creature be repaid
    Pure Gold for what he lent him dross-allay'd--
    Sue for a Debt he never did contract,
    And cannot answer--Oh, the sorry trade!


    LXXX
    Oh, Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin
    Beset the Road I was to wander in,
    Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round
    Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin!


    LXXXI
    Oh, Thou who Man of baser Earth didst make,
    And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake:
    For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
    Is blacken'd--Man's forgiveness give--and take!


    LXXXII
    As under cover of departing Day
    Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazan away,
    Once more within the Potter's house alone
    I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay.


    LXXXIII
    Shapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great and small,
    That stood along the floor and by the wall;
    And some loquacious Vessels were; and some
    Listen'd perhaps, but never talk'd at all.


    LXXXIV
    Said one among them--"Surely not in vain
    My substance of the common Earth was ta'en
    And to this Figure moulded, to be broke,
    Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again."


    LXXXV
    Then said a Second--"Ne'er a peevish Boy
    Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy,
    And He that with his hand the Vessel made
    Will surely not in after Wrath destroy."


    LXXXVI
    After a momentary silence spake
    Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make;
    "They sneer at me for leaning all awry:
    What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"


    LXXXVII
    Whereat some one of the loquacious Lot--
    I think a Sufi pipkin-waxing hot--
    "All this of Pot and Potter--Tell me then,
    Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?"


    LXXXVIII
    "Why," said another, "Some there are who tell
    Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell
    The luckless Pots he marr'd in making--Pish!
    He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well."


    LXXXIX
    "Well," Murmur'd one, "Let whoso make or buy,
    My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry:
    But fill me with the old familiar juice,
    Methinks I might recover by and by."


    XC
    So while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
    The little Moon look'd in that all were seeking:
    And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother!
    Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking!"


    XCI
    Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
    And wash the Body whence the Life has died,
    And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf,
    By some not unfrequented Garden-side.


    XCII
    That ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare
    Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air
    As not a True-believer passing by
    But shall be overtaken unaware.


    XCIII
    Indeed the Idols I have loved so long
    Have done my credit in this World much wrong:
    Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup
    And sold my Reputation for a Song.


    XCIV
    Indeed, indeed, Repentance of before
    I swore--but was I sober when I swore?
    And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand
    My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore.


    XCV
    And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel,
    And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour--Well,
    I wonder often what the Vintners buy
    One half so precious as the stuff they sell.


    XCVI
    Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
    That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close!
    The Nightingale that in the branches sang,
    Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows!


    XCVII
    Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
    One glimpse--if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd,
    To which the fainting Traveller might spring,
    As springs the trampled herbage of the field!


    XCVIII
    Would but some wing'ed Angel ere too late
    Arrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate,
    And make the stern Recorder otherwise
    Enregister, or quite obliterate!


    XCIX
    Ah, Love! could you and I with Him conspire
    To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
    Would not we shatter it to bits--and then
    Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!


    C
    Yon rising Moon that looks for us again--
    How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
    How oft hereafter rising look for us
    Through this same Garden--and for one in vain!


    CI
    And when like her, oh, Saki, you shall pass
    Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass,
    And in your joyous errand reach the spot
    Where I made One--turn down an empty Glass!

  30. #590
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    When this very demon assails me,
    and with heavy hands and with his jaws
    full of foam devours me all,
    I turn to you with eyes full
    of mute assent and I dont tell you stop,
    I know what you suffer my lord when
    I have twisted hands and muted eyes,
    I know you see me quiver from anger,
    against thousands of impostures, o true chant,
    if you could even as an expert
    severe surgeon come in my heart
    and take away its torment, then a scream
    I’d give of blessed wonder,
    of joyfulness, o God beloved and full
    like the night, if I turn upside down
    I see the stars and obscure firmaments
    tremble inside of me, at night, when you’re silent.

  31. #591
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    “I think the reward for conformity is that everyone likes you except yourself.”
    ・゚*✧ 𝓘 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓘 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 ✧*:・゚

  32. #592
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    Nature and art, they seem to shun each other
    Goethe trans. John Irons

    Nature and art, they seem to shun each other
    Yet in a trice can draw back close once more;
    The aversion’s gone too that I felt before,
    Both equally attract me, I discover.


    An honest effort’s all that we require!
    Only when we’ve assigned art clear-cut hours,
    With full exertion of our mental powers,
    Is nature free our hearts once more to inspire.


    Such is the case with all forms of refinement:
    In vain will spirits lacking due constraint
    Seek the perfection of pure elevation.


    He who’d do great things must display restraint;
    The master shows himself first in confinement,
    And law alone can grant us liberation.



    I prefer the German version of this much more. Is that a sign this 1800 poem needs another translation? I doubt John Irons is translating all these to begin with. I'll post my translation when I make it so the people who don't speak German can know what classical German poetry is supposed to sound like compared to the common quality of translation.

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    Did you know Salvador Dalí invented Pokémon? Salvador Dalí definitely invented Pokémon. Here's the entire passage minus pictures from 50 Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship where Dalí invents Pokémon:


    Nevertheless, in former times magic has often dealt with concrete recipes. But mine is incomparably superior, thanks to Sigmund Freud and to the advances that have been made in the young morphological sciences, and especially thanks to Dali who, besides being unique, knows things which no one knows today, which were not known in the Middle Ages either, though that was an age when men felt their way in the dark amid dazzling treasures of intuition and superstition. Men have attempted to interpret dreams, and even to guide them, but never yet have men attempted to use sleep to guide and to control artistic creation which is to be executed in a waking state. Rather than discuss my recipes, which are not to be found written in any book in the world, it would be wiser to test them, and this is what I do. For these recipes are not the product of surrealist fantasies.

    They are very elementary and simple recipes at the disposal of any apprentice painter. It is easy also to smile at the apparent childishness of my “finds.” But consider Newton's apple or Columbus's egg. As for me, let me tell you that I sleep very soundly on the fact that posterity will some day accord much more importance to my three white, round sea perch eyes than to the egg of Columbus himself. And not only because each one of the former is worth three of the latter. Just consider this: Columbus's egg is a myth, whereas my three little balls are a discovery. He who laughs last laughs best!

    The painter is above all one who likes this and who does not like that. His eye lives only by sympathies and antipathies, by continual affinities, relations and choices. This is known as “having taste.” The painter is one who, among all the “paint-able” things which exist in the world, chooses as a subject a piece of bread on the corner of a table, a woman pouring milk into a crock, a certain man holding a red carnation between his fingers, or the betrothal of the virgin. The painter is one who, among the limitlessness of colorations, limits himself to only a few of them with fanatical constancy.

    Painter, you will therefore surely be obliged at the very beginning of your work to decide: for on your white canvas it will not be given to you to paint the entire universe. You must choose a small part of it and nevertheless, in this small part, you will have to make felt all the antipathies of the entire universe.

    Begin, then, by knowing that according to the Dalinian aesthetic, the tulip is a horrid thing next to celluloid, that sardines, if they go beyond a certain size, become a banality, that the crayfish is the most admirable architecture that exists, and that the form which best goes with it is that of the onion, and that if this form is done in silver and placed next to the crayfish the effect will be excellent, for nothing is more sympathetic than silver and crayfish. Know also that the orange combined with lettuce is a moral monstrosity and that this monstrosity becomes even greater at the approach of a storm. I tell you all this in order to help you to discover for yourself and in order that you may begin to find your own way and to choose amid the cosmic complexity of the world which surrounds you.

    But in this connection listen for a moment to J.-B. de Porta, who had great knowledge of these matters:

    "Thus there are in animals, in plants and generally in all species having occult properties a same passion which the Greeks call sympathy and antipathy and which we more commonly call attraction and aversion. For certain ones of these join and embrace one another sympathetically, while others on the contrary have an aversion and an antipathy to one another without our being able to assign the true reason for this sympathy or this antipathy.

    "And yet this reason exists, for nature has formed no thing without giving it its creator, and there is nothing in the hidden things of nature which does not have a secret and special property. Empedocles, struck by the marvels which he saw before his eyes, affirms that all things were brought into being through struggle and concord, and were dissipated in the same manner. He adds that these two contraries were the seed or the source of all things, that they were to be found in the elements by means of discordant and concordant qualities, as we have expounded above. He continues by saying that the same is true of the bodies of the heavens, alleging as an example that Jupiter and Venus have an attraction to all the other planets, except Mars and Saturn …

    "These things may be seen still more clearly in the books of the astrologers, but they appear even yet more indisputably in the animal kingdom. For example, I will mention man and the serpent, who hate each other with an irreconcilable hatred: so that man, having seen the serpent, suddenly takes fright, and this pernicious creature, presenting himself before a pregnant woman, induces in her a miscarriage and causes her to lose the fruit of her womb. The saliva of a young man likewise has great power, for it will kill scorpions. The crocodile of the Nile and the panther are most cruel animals and most dangerous to man, for the former, attracting him by feigned tears, devours him on the spot, and the other causes him a mortal fright. The Indian rat is pernicious to the crocodile, for nature has given it to the latter as its enemy, so that when this violent animal relaxes in the sun it creates a trap for itself by which it dies. For, perceiving that the crocodile sleeps with its mouth open, thus exposing a monstrous chasm, the rat enters it and slips through the wide throat into the beast's belly. It gnaws its entrails and finally emerges through the belly of the dead creature. However, this animal has no fondness for the spider, and often fighting with the aspic, it dies. The glance of the wolf is also very harmful to man. If the wolf sees the man first, the latter loses his voice, so that even if he wishes to cry out he no longer can, for he is suddenly deprived of the power of speech. But if the wolf feels itself to be observed it becomes silent, its cruelty is diminished and it loses much of its strength. If the wolf bites a horse it is a fact that it will become wonderfully light and fit for running. But if by its fall it comes up against the trace of the wolf it will be all terrorstruck and its legs will become all numb, so Pamphilius assures us.

    "The wolf has a mortal hatred of the lamb, in which it inspires such fear and terror that if garments are made of the skin or of the spun fleece of a sheep killed by a wolf, they will engender more lice than those of another. But also the flesh of sheep that have felt the teeth of a wolf becomes more tender and tasty. The tail and the head of a wolf hung in a sheepfold will cause the creatures to be consumed with regret and melancholy, so that they will leave off grazing in their pasture and implore aid and succor by their pitiful bleating. The dog is the enemy of the wolf and the friend of man. And the latter is also held in affection by the horse. But the horse has as enemies the griffon and the bear.

    "The lion surpasses all animals in generosity, and it frightens all other beasts. But it is frightened by the mere crowing of the cock, especially if it be white, and the rooster's comb also inspires it with terror. The monkey has a horror of the turtle; when it sees one it flees, uttering savage cries. The elephant which is the largest of land animals experiences acute fear upon hearing the grunts of a sow. It is also in continual struggle against the dragon.

    "The cock is indifferent to the elephant and is not afraid of it. It despises that great and heavy mass, but it fears the kite. When an elephant is carried away by fury and cruelty, if it should perceive a sheep it immediately becomes gentle and its impetuosity ceases. By this ruse did the Romans put to flight the elephants of Pyrrhus, the king of the Epirotes, and won a dazzling victory over him. The linnet detests the donkey and fights with it in a strange manner. For when the donkey draws near bushes and shrubs to scratch itself, and in rubbing against the branches threatens to destroy the birds’ nests, the linnet, lest it cause the eggs or the young ones to drop, comes to their rescue and with its beak pecks the soft part of the animal's nostrils.

    "The sparrow-hawk is the greatest enemy of doves, but these are protected by the kestrel, whose voice and glance frighten the sparrow-hawk. Thus they never stray far from the kestrel, in whom they have full confidence. The rook and the owl are perpetually at war; they spy on each other's nests and eat the little ones which they find in them. The owl operates at night, but the rook works by day and has more strength than its enemy. The weasel is the enemy of the crow, and the kite cannot endure the presence of the crow. The strength of the kite resides above all in its claws, which are very hard.

    "The red woodpecker likes neither the heron nor the yellow hammer, the crow hates the buzzard, the wasp is the relentless enemy of the horse and of the donkey. When the donkey sleeps in its stable the wasp enters its nostrils and, when it awakens, prevents it from eating. The heron makes war on the eagle, the lark on the fox. Against the eagle a night-flying hawk named cibidus wages furious warfare; bent upon extermination, they kill one another.

    "The aquatic animals also war on one another continually The conger and the lamprey, for example, eat each other's tails Spiny lobsters have a horror of octopi, which envelop them with their powerful tentacles and choke them. There is also in the ocean a small worm, similar to the scorpion, large as a spider, which with its stinger penetrates under the fins of a fish named thinnis and presses them in such a fashion that, overcome with pain and rage, it jumps on board the ships which sail in its vicinity.

    "The cabbage and the vine are pernicious to each other, for although the vine, by its curling tendrils, will usually wind itself around all objects, nevertheless it eschews the cabbage and the repugnance which it feels for this vegetable is such that, sensing the cabbage near it, it turns in the other direction, as though someone had warned it that its enemy is in its neighborhood. And this is also worthy of note: while cabbage is cooking, if you put a little wine in the vessel in which it is cooking, the cabbage will not cook properly and will not keep its color. Nor can the vine endure the laurel, because by its order it affects its quality adversely. The hellebore and the hemlock are, as is known, dangerous to man. Yet it is to be noted that quail eat the one and starlings the other.

    "The ferula is a most agreeable fodder for the donkey, but it is a cruel poison for other beasts, which it promptly kills. Which is why this animal is dedicated to Bacchus, even as is the ferula. If the scorpion crawls at the base of the aconite it is overcome with terror and promptly becomes numb. There is an herb named cerastis, the virtue of which is such that if you rub its grain between your hands the scorpion will do you no harm, but you may on the contrary crush it at your leisure. Cats will not touch birds which have grains of wild rue under their wings. The weasel which wishes to do battle with a serpent also fortifies itself by arming itself with this plant. The lion if it brushes against the branches or the leaves of the holly oak at once becomes very fearful. If the wolf touches an onion it loses its strength, which is the reason why foxes habitually cover and line their holes with them. The leaves of the plane tree repel bats, hence storks fill their nests with them, in order to preserve themselves from their attacks.

    "The birds which are called harpae seek out ivy, rooks verbena, the thrush myrtle, the partridge reed, the heron carline, the lark dog's teeth, which has given rise to these verses:

    In the gracious lustre of the dog's teeth herb
    The lark builds its home and its repose assures.

    "Swans wishing their young to come forth bring vitex, or agnus castus, into their nests.
    "But if we have told of things contrary or harmful, how much more marvelous shall we find those which are agreeable and beneficent! If I have said that the serpent is the enemy of man, I shall note on the contrary that the lizard loves and cherishes him and that it rejoices in his sight. And indeed what animal is more friendly to man than the dog, who caresses him even to licking his saliva? And among aquatic animals, what is more friendly than the dolphin: so much so that it has appropriately been named philanthropos, and it is well known, according to Appion, that it is subject to love. As Theophrastus relates, dolphins have been known to fall madly in love, so much so that on seeing pretty little children navigating along the shore in boats they have suddenly become entranced by them. The fox lives on good terms with the serpent. Peacocks are fond of doves. Blackbirds, thrushes and parrots quickly fall enamoured of turtledoves. Ovid speaks of this in the following verses:

    And the green bird sighs with love
    For the night-black turtledove.

    "Rooks are fond of herons and come to one another's aid against the insolence of foxes, their common enemy. There is the same familiarity and the same mutual aid among fish who live in schools. There is for example a real friendship between the whale and a small fish of the size of a gudgeon, which it freely allows to swim before it to serve as its guide, and this little creature it will follow as the one to which it owes the safety of its life. And when the one rests, the other rests, and when the one resumes its course the other does likewise and is entirely subservient to it.

    "Thus also, in the vegetable kingdom, vines are fond of elms and poplars, so much so that they grow magnificently in their proximity. For, married in wedlock, as it were, the vines send out their tendrils, climb daintily and embrace the branches of these trees, to the point where they can no longer detach themselves, which is not the case for other trees. Palm trees cherish one another with a vehement love. They languish for one another and are so titillated by amorous desire that they bow their tufted heads toward one another and interlace their fronds in a sweet and loving attachment. And if, being planted next to one another, they are joined by a cord, they will embrace with mutual caresses and revel in the sweet gifts of Venus, and joyously will lift the foliage of their graceful crowns. The planters have a remedy for this amorous madness, which we shall relate further on, a remedy by the aid of which this extravagant love is extinguished, and the tree henceforth is rendered fruitful. Leontius also speaks of the ardent desire which these trees exhibit and bases himself on what the ancients had said on the subject. Carnal desire, he says, is so great and so lively in the palm tree that the female will relinquish her amorous desire only when the beloved male has consoled her. If her love-yearning is not assuaged, she dies—a fact well known to the agricultural expert. Accordingly, having provided himself with the remedy which is required in order that he may know and recognize the one to which she desires to be joined in marriage, he goes and seeks out all the male palms which surround the languishing female palm, and having touched one, he puts his hand to the passionate loving palm, and so he does with one after another. And when he feels that his hands are grazed as by a kiss, he thereby recognizes that the palm announces that her desire is assuaged, and she waves her sweet and gracious crown. Then the prudent husbandman goes and plucks flowers from the trunk of the male and therewith crowns the head of the lady-love who, thus laden with her lover's gift, bears fruit and, rejoicing in this pledge of love, becomes fecund. The fruit will not ripen on the female palm if the husband's pollen is not sprinkled on her.

    "The olive tree and the myrtle also have a great affection for each other, as Androcius relates, the branches of the latter interlacing with the olive tree's, and their roots wrapping around one another. Hence no other tree is planted near the olive tree, except the myrtle. It is, in fact, the enemy of the fig tree and even of all other trees. The myrtle also likes to be near the pomegranate tree, for if they are planted next to each other they become more fertile and abundant. If the pomegranate is grafted on the myrtle it bears more heavily. So Didymus assures us. There are also several other trees which become sterile if a post is not driven into the ground near them or if the male tree is not right close to them. The shoot of the wild olive tree counteracts sterility in the domestic olive tree.

    "Between roses and lilies there is a secret sympathy, so that in growing side by side they help and benefit one another and produce more delicate and fragrant blooms. Where the squill is planted all other plants do exceptionally well, just as all kinds of vegetable herbs are favored in their growth if rocket is planted close to them. Cucumbers have as great an attraction for water as they have an aversion for oil. The rue is never so handsome as under the shade of the fig tree, or even grafted into the latter's bark.

    "The cat rejoices in the presence of verbena, because this plant strengthens its eyes.

    "I think that I may well close this chapter here, for I believe we have amused you, friend reader, more than was mete."

    Now that you have had a glimpse into certain mysteries of sympathy and of antipathy in the world closest to natural magic, you must begin daily to apply these principles to the sensitive impressions of your own eye. For the eye of the painter is a battle field, and at the same time an idyllic prairie. Certain images, in fact, shock the eye while others caress it, some nourish it and others denutrify it, and so on. Consequently, if you wish to make your eye vibrate happily, remembering that your eye will be ceaselessly engaged in choosing, in struggling for holy unity, which is your holy unity, you must creat it with very special care. Since a singer must take care of his throat, how should you not take care of your eye! And there is this difference, that while the vocal chords are viscera which are blind, deaf and without memory, the eye is the persistence of retinal memory in person!


    @sbbds @Grendel @Subteigh @squark

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    "I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
    Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
    Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
    I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

    I hunger for your sleek laugh,
    your hands the color of a savage harvest,
    hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
    I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

    I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
    the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
    I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

    and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
    hunting for you, for your hot heart,
    like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue."

    Pablo Neruda


    “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

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    why not merely the despaired of

    occasion of
    wordshed

    is it not better abort than be barren
    the hours after you are gone are so leaden
    they will always start dragging too soon
    the grapples clawing blindly the bed of want
    bringing up the bones the old loves
    sockets filled once with eyes like yours
    all always is it better too soon than never
    the black want splashing their faces
    saying again nine days never floated the loved
    nor nine months
    nor nine lives



    saying again
    if you do not teach me I shall not learn
    saying again there is a last
    even of last times
    last times of begging
    last times of loving
    of knowing not knowing pretending
    a last even of last times of saying
    if you do not love me I shall not be loved
    if I do not love you I shall not love
    the churn of stale words in the heart again
    love love love thud of the old plunger
    pestling the unalterable
    whey of words
    terrified again
    of not loving
    of loving and not you
    of being loved and not by you
    of knowing not knowing pretending
    pretending
    I and all the others that will love you
    if they love you




    unless they love you



    S. Beckett

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    Anguished grief, immoderate fury,
    grievous despair, full of madness,
    endless languor and a life of misfortune,
    full of tears, anguish and torment,
    doleful heart, living in darkness,
    wraithlike body on the point of death,
    are mine continually without cease;
    and thus I can neither be healed nor die.

    Harsh disdain, bereft of joy,
    sad thoughts, deep sighs,
    great anguish locked in a weary heart,
    bitter distress endured in secret,
    mournful demeanour without gladness,
    foreboding which dries up all hope,
    are in me and never leave me;
    and thus I can neither be healed nor die.

    Worry and annoyance everlasting,
    bitter waking, troubled sleep,
    I labour in vain, with languid expression,
    destined to grievous torment,
    and all the ill which one could ever
    say or think, without hope of relief,
    torment me immoderately;
    and thus I can neither be healed nor die.

    Princes, pray to God that very soon
    he may grant me death, if he does not wish by any other means
    to remedy the ill in which I painfully languish;
    and thus I can neither be healed nor die.

    - Christine de Pisan (1364-1430)

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    You have a superpower and it’s called empathy.
    ・゚*✧ 𝓘 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓘 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 ✧*:・゚

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    “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

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    Pentecostal - D. H. Lawrence - 1885-1930

    Shall I tell you, then, how it is?

    There came a cloven gleam,
    Like a tongue of darkened flame,
    To burn in me.

    And so I seem
    To have you still the same
    In one world with me.

    In the flicker of a flower,
    In a worm that is blind, yet strives,
    In the mouse that pauses to listen,

    Glimmers our
    Shadow as well, and deprives
    Them none of their glisten.

    In each shaken morsel
    Our shadow trembles
    As if it rippled from out of us hand in hand.

    We are part and parcel
    In shadow, nothing dissembles
    Our darkened universe. You understand?

    For I have told you plainly how it is.

  40. #600

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    "Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower." -- Albert Camus

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