Down with Practicality

Irony.


Not to discover weakness is
The Artifice of strength -
Impregnability inheres
As much through Consciousness

Of faith of others in itself
As Pyramidal Nerve
Behind the most unconscious clock
What skillful Pointers move -

– Emily Dickinson


Humanity i love you by e. e. cummings

libraryland:

Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both

parties and because you 
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard

Humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you’re flush pride keeps 

you from the pawn shops and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house

Humanity i love you because you 
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it’s there and sitting down

on it
and because you are 
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you

Via Libraryland

Imagination was given to man to compensate him for what he is not, and a sense of humor was provided to console him for what he is.

Oscar Wilde (via kleir)

What if there’s no sense of humor? Baseball bat?

Via This is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart.

Henri Cartier-Bresson



By Sally Mann


Che altri si vantino delle pagine che hanno scritto; io sono orgoglioso di quelle che ho letto


Poesie - Jorge Luis Borges (via sofficelavanda)

(Source: profumodilavanda)

Via ...per quando la vita ti mette in un angolo.

Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.

– Jean-Paul Sartre - Being and Nothingness (via philosophers) Via

When I am attacked by gloomy thoughts, nothing helps me so much as running to my books. They quickly absorb me and banish the clouds from my mind.

– Michel de Montaigne - French essayist (1533 - 1592)

(Source: deannawasiswillbe)

Via


so you want to be a writer? by Charles Bukowski

justapoet:

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.


if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

Via A Bulgarian Disco in China Town



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