“Night was a very different matter. It was dense, thicker than the very walls, and it was empty, so black, so immense that within it you could brush against appalling things and feel roaming and prowling around a strange, mysterious horror.”—Guy de Maupassant
“God: I own you like I own the caves.
The Ocean: Not a chance. No comparison.
God: I made you. I could tame you.
The Ocean: At one time, maybe. But not now.
God: I will come to you, freeze you, break you.
The Ocean: I will spread myself like wings. I am a billion tiny feathers. You have no idea what’s happened to me.”—Dave Eggers (How We Are Hungry)
“I love science, and it pains me to think that so many are terrified of the subject or feel that choosing science means you cannot also choose compassion, or the arts, or be awed by nature. Science is not meant to cure us of mystery, but to reinvent and reinvigorate it.”—Robert M. Sapolsky (via atomos)
“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”—Albert Einstein (via atomos)
“I see nothing. We may sink and settle on the waves. The sea will drum in my ears. The white petals will be darkened with sea water. They will float for a moment and then sink. Rolling over the waves will shoulder me under. Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me.”—Virginia Woolf, The Waves (via fairylullaby)
“A curtain is dropped once the sun disappears. I love a night of its own colors, where green becomes myrtle, blue becomes violet, and crimson, a maroon. But most of all, I love a night where the moon is the absolute white, like the course sail of a grand ship, and, I love watching it steer, like an infernal comet, into a sea of stars.”—Forever Bedlam: 78 (via frozenpetals)
“He died in a tree from which he wouldn’t come down. “Come down!” they cried to him. “Come down! Come down!” Silence filled the night, and the night filled the silence, while they waited for Kafka to speak. “I can’t,” he finally said, with a note of wistfulness. “Why?” they cried. Stars spilled across the black sky. “Because then you’ll stop asking for me.”—Nicole Krauss
“They travel for days. Sometimes it rains abruptly. Silver flashes. The girl looks for eyes in the puddles after these sudden storms. She finds them: handfuls of monsoon frogs. Tiny. Bright green, with bronze brown flecks. She shows them to her grandfather. “Can we take them home?” No.
When she is grown, she realizes that she has forgotten everything. How to live without explanations. How to travel light. How to let the earth go. How skin can see.”—Bhanu Kapil Rider
“The clock holds me nowhere. Nowhere. Nowhere. There is nothing else but now and the shifting depth of the night. I sit at a table alone smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee and listening and surviving. I should not be here or anywhere. I should not be breathing or taking space. I should not have been given this moment or anything else. I should not have this opportunity again to live. I do not deserve it or deserve anything yet it is here and I am here and I Have it all of it still. I won’t have it again. This moment or this chance they are the same and they are mine if I choose them and I do. I want them. Now and as long as I can have them they are both precious and fleeting and gone in the blink of an eye don’t waste them. A moment and an opportunity and a life, all in the unseen tick of a clock holding me nowhere. My heart is beating. The walls are pale and quiet. I am surviving.”—James Frey (via pearleyes)
“I want to be magic. I want to touch the heart of the world and make it smile. I want to be a friend of elves and live in a tree. Or under a hill. I want to marry a moonbeam and hear the stars sing. I don’t want to pretend at magic anymore. I want to be magic.”—Charles de Lint (via silhouettings)
“Because, because, and because. You
turned around to stare at me and I waved
back: I love you too. What an education:
poetry always demands all my ghosts.”—from Always by Rane Arroyo (via melancholynotes)
“As from a star I saw, coldly and soberly, the separateness of everything. I felt the wall of my skin; I am I. That stone is a stone. My beautiful fusion with the things of this world was over.”—Sylvia Plath