“You know that place between sleeping and awake, that place where you can still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you…”
— Hook, Dir. Steven Spielberg (via wnq-movies)
“I think everything in life is art. What you do. How you dress. The way you love someone, and how you talk. Your smile and your personality. What you believe in, and all your dreams. The way you drink your tea. How you decorate your home. Or party. Your grocery list. The food you make. How your writing looks. And the way you feel. Life is art.”
— Helena Bonham Carter (via quotemadness)
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Concept: me, spending time with my closest friends. We’re all in the kitchen while I’m cooking dinner, my apartment is cozy and it smells delicious. It’s raining outside and we’re all laughing, with no stress.
you’re allowed to say “no”. you’re allowed to say “i’m not comfortable with this”. you’re allowed to say “please leave”. you’re allowed to say “no, i don’t want to talk to you”. anyone who acts like they’re entitled to your body, time or attention thinks they somehow own you. and they really don’t.
“The universe could do nothing more cruel than send someone their soulmate at the wrong time.”
— n. m. (via wnq-writers)
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Stéphane Mallarmé, from Collected Poems and Other Verse; “The Afternoon of a Fawn,” (x)
i am stuck in an eternal state of yearning in which i romanticise and fantasise about all the lovers and lives i will never experience.
“We stay silent for a moment. Evening is coming on; I can hardly make out the pale spot on her face. Her black dress melts with the shadow which floods the room. I pick up my cup mechanically, there’s a little tea left in it and I bring it to my lips. The tea is cold. I want to smoke but I don’t dare. I have the terrible feeling that we have nothing more to say to one another. Only yesterday I had so many questions to ask her: where she had been, what she had done, whom she had met. But that interested me only in so far as Anny gave her whole heart to it. Now I am without curiosity: all these countries, all these cities she had passed through, all the men who could have courted her and whom she has perhaps loved – she clung to none of that, at heart she was indifferent to it all: little flashes of sun on the surface of a cold, dark sea. Anny is sitting opposite to me, we haven’t seen each other for four years and we have nothing more to say.”
— Nausea, Jean-Paul Sarte
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"Although I may not be yours, I can never be another's."
ㅡ Mary Shelley, from a letter to Percy Byshhe Shelley written c. July 1814
I've discovered
my inner child likes binge-watching anime, reading difficult books even though it's really hard, making cookies, writing anything, classical music, trying to make a new recipe.
my inner child loves to play and work their mind.
they want all their stuff animals back.
i think right now, my inner child is seeing the future more clearly and is finally excited
“I hate solitude but I am afraid of intimacy. The substance of my life is a private conversation with myself and to turn it into a dialogue would be equivalent to self-destruction. The company I need is the company which a pub or café will provide. I have never wanted a communion of souls. It’s already hard enough to tell the truth to oneself.”
— Iris Murdoch, from Under the Net
— "You Say 'I Will Come'", Lady Otomo No Sakanoe (translated by Kenneth Rexroth)
[text ID: You say, "I will come." / And you do not come. / Now you say, "I will not come." / So I shall expect you. / Have I learned to understand you?]
Marguerite Duras, from The Lover
Text ID: My mother didn’t foresee what was going to become of us as a result of witnessing her despair.
I want to tell you of how I have been hugging myself, crouching in the shower for years—I heard my mother crying in a midnight once, and once I was a river or was in a river and found the memory of a mother-mourning into a sopping red rag, it covered my face and took the sun away.
— Angel Dominguez, from “[Diego],” Desgraciado
