oldwinesoul - Tumblr blog

[oldwinesoul]

[oldwinesoul]

[oldwinesoul]

[oldwinesoul]

// Mahmoud Darwish, from The Adam of two Edens: Selected Poems; "To an Iraqi Poet,"

[oldwinesoul]

“I never wish to be easily defined. I'd rather float over other people's minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.”

// Franz Kafka, diary entry dated 23 March 1914

[oldwinesoul]

It's April again. I want to leave it all.

Which isn't fair.

Neither am I.

// Colleen O'Connor, from "Spring Poem," published in Pinwheel

[oldwinesoul]

Well, let it pass; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.

// F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Short Stories

[oldwinesoul]

“April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.”

// T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

[oldwinesoul]

[oldwinesoul]

When we listen to certain types of music or soak our eyes with paintings or fill our lungs with poems, it all begins to blend and run through us, quietly becoming part of our blood, flesh and bones.

We always carry the art we've loved.

// Victoria Erickson

[oldwinesoul]

Who holds the reins of my desires if not my hands? My hands—my body’s gates of tenderness, the tools of my wonders, be they violent or gentle, be they both.

// Natalie Diaz, The Hand Has Twenty-Seven Bones—: These Hands If Not Gods

[oldwinesoul]

[oldwinesoul]

I demand unconditional love and complete freedom. That is why I am terrible.

// Tomaz Salamun

[oldwinesoul]

“You want to know who my mother and father are? You want to know who my god is? Fear.

You look inside me and that's all you'll find.”

// Willem Dafoe, from The Last Temptation of Christ

[oldwinesoul]

I thirst for you. Don't walk away from me. Tell me everything, even if you have to hurt me a little. No one in the world will love anything you do as much as I do. Tell me about the you I love, the one who's a little shivery. Let yourself go. Don't force yourself on me, just because you don't want to worry or help me. When you strip in front of me, I finally understand why I was born. I love you.

// Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, January 14-15, 1950

[oldwinesoul]

[oldwinesoul]