cinnamonellasmokes
cinnamonellasmokes
Strings attached
13 posts
the blue french horn and the colour of the wheat fields
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cinnamonellasmokes 7 years ago
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Dammit, Trudy, what about the pineapple?
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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mr nobody
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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Remember those walls I built?
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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LP
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave.
Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being (via bookmania)
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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^ currently reading..
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There鈥檚 nothing better than buying a book second hand and coming across a note on the inside cover that somebody has written. It鈥檚 like finding a little piece of someone鈥檚 history.
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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Jean-Luc Godard, Jean Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, in Paris, 1970, distributing the banned leftist newspaper聽La Cause du Peuple. Photo: Bruno Barbey.
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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I Want to Write Different Words for You
聽 I want to write different words for you To invent a language for you alone To fit the size of your body And the size of my love.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 I want to travel away from the dictionary And to leave my lips. I am tired of my mouth I want a different one That can change Into a cherry tree or a matchbox, A mouth from which words can emerge Like nymphs from the sea, Like white chicks jumping from the magician鈥檚 hat.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 Take all the books That I read in my childhood, Take all my school notebooks, Take the chalk, The pens, And the blackboards, But teach me a new word To hang like an earring On my lover鈥檚 ear.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 I want new fingers To write in another way, High like masts of ships, Long like a giraffe鈥檚 neck So I can tailor for my beloved A garment of poetry.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 I want to make you a unique library In it I want The rhythm of the rain, The dust of the moon, The sadness of the grey clouds, The pain of the fallen willow leaves Under the wheels of autumn
聽聽 聽Nizar Qabbani
聽 聽 Translation from the Arabic by Bassam K. Frangieh and Clementina R. Brown
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cinnamonellasmokes 8 years ago
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Every path is the right path. Everything could've been anything else. And it would have just as much meaning.
best movie
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