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Charles Wright, from "Thinking of Georg Trakl", Country Music: Selected Early Poems [ID'd]

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Rainer Maria Rilke in a letter to Lou Andreas-Salomé, published in Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: A Love Story in Letters

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Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves

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“We can express our feelings regarding the world around us either by poetic or by descriptive means. I prefer to express myself metaphorically. Let me stress: metaphorically, not symbolically. A symbol contains within itself a definite meaning, certain intellectual formula, while metaphor is an image. An image possessing the same distinguishing features as the world it represents. An image — as opposed to a symbol — is indefinite in meaning. One cannot speak of the infinite world by applying tools that are definite and finite. We can analyse the formula that constitutes a symbol, while metaphor is a being-within-itself, it’s a monomial. It falls apart at any attempt of touching it.”

— Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in Time (via ardora)

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Saints of Little Faith, Megan Pinto

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Odd Nerdrum, Drifting, 2006

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“Art is the burning bush that both shelters and makes visible our profounder longings. Through it we see ourselves in metaphor. Art is metaphor, from the Greek, meta (above) and pherein (to carry) it is that which is carried above the literalness of life. Art is metaphor. Metaphor is transformation.”

Art Objects: Essays on Ecstasy and Effrontery; ‘A Gift of Wings (with reference to Orlando)’ Jeanette Winterson

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“Mother tongues, like any other first love, are very hard to forget. They are loyal and forgiving. Even when our speech shrivels and our writing is plagued with errors. Even when our native letters appear foreign and our native sounds ring forsaken. After all, our mother tongues raised us. They knew us when we didn’t know ourselves. They watched us learn to speak, to write, to reason. They taught us to love and to grieve. They showed us the rules and the exceptions. They know they’ll echo within our walls long after we become guests in our own homes: from the way we will combine the new words, to the way we will whisper the old prayers.”

— Marianna Pogosyan, “Why learning a new language is like an illicit love affair” (via malavermelha)

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[...] the expression on her face was ageless, haunting, as though she possessed in her lithe body an old soul that could not die; centuries in time looked out from those two eyes, she had contemplated life so long it had become indifferent to her.

Daphne du Maurier, My Cousin Rachel, 1951

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Carl Jung, The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

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Acheron by Reinhold Kukla, 1902

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“What can you know about a person? They shift in the light. You can’t light up all sides at once. Add a second light and you get a second darkness,”

— Richard Siken, from Portrait of Fryderyk in Shifting Light; War of the Foxes, 2015

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“We can express our feelings regarding the world around us either by poetic or by descriptive means. I prefer to express myself metaphorically. Let me stress: metaphorically, not symbolically. A symbol contains within itself a definite meaning, certain intellectual formula, while metaphor is an image. An image possessing the same distinguishing features as the world it represents. An image — as opposed to a symbol — is indefinite in meaning. One cannot speak of the infinite world by applying tools that are definite and finite. We can analyse the formula that constitutes a symbol, while metaphor is a being-within-itself, it’s a monomial. It falls apart at any attempt of touching it.”

— Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in Time (via ardora)

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There is a void that comes after betrayal. It comes, like rot, sure of its work. It patiently waits. Heavy and absolute. It comes to teach you how to kneel.

Helaena Moon

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“I know I’ve got a death wish. I’ve never enjoyed my life, I’ve never liked people. I love the mountains because they are the negation of life, indestructible, inhuman, untouchable, indifferent, as I want to be.”

— Anna Kavan, from Machines in the Head: Selected Stories

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Through the dark ancient cities – within and beyond – I search for the fire of my ancestors.

Odd Nerdrum

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What goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives.

—Tales From Earthsea: Dragonfly, by Ursula Le Guin