But poetry, beauty, romance, love... these are what we stay alive for.
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"I am as I am, and that's all there is to it," he said to himself, "I can hardly take a pair of scissors to myself, and cut out a different person who might be a better friend to him."
—Franz Kafka, "The Judgement"
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Locks of hair from Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley, and Lord Byron, next to their portraits:



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Man Ray: 'Larmes de Verre', Glass Tears (1930-1932)
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thierry mugler, fw 1984. may he rest in peace.
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[Text ID: If this myth is tragic, that is because its hero is conscious. Where would his torture be, indeed, if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him?]
Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus
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Wind sings in its whirling, water murmurs going by, unmoving stone keeps still.
Octavio Paz, “Wind, Water, Stone” (trans. Eliot Weinberger)
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I had a dream, which was not all a dream. —Lord Byron
Images taken by the unmanned spacecraft Cassini. source.
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Erika L. Sánchez, from Lessons on Expulsion: Poems; “Amá”
[Text ID: “In One Hundred Years of Solitude, / Márquez wrote that we are birthed / by our mothers only once, but life obligates / us to give birth / to ourselves over and over.”]
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Perhaps we were friends first and lovers second. But then perhaps this is what lovers are.
André Aciman / Call Me by Your Name (via bnmxfld)
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These moments came less often now, and for the most part it seemed as though things had begun to change for him. He no longer wished to be bead. At the same time, it cannot be said that he was glad to be alive. But at least he did not resent it.
Paul Auster, City of Glass
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Postcard clutches at Schiaparelli Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2015
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The cities dissolve, and the earth is a cart loaded with dust Only poetry knows how to pair itself to this space.
Adonis, “Desert” (trans. Khaled Mattawa)
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Albert Camus throwing shade at Galileo
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