We are not long-term beings. Not heroes of romances in many volumes. For one gesture, for one word alone, we shall make the effort. We openly admit: our creations will be temporary. We shall have this as our aim: a gesture. ― Jonathan Safran Foer, Tree of Codes. (Visual Editions November 2010)
One eye sees, the other feels. — Paul Kleen
He lived his short century in dreams–not even about the past but about some shadowy world of tenderness and beauty … — Сергей Константинович Маковский / Sergei K. Makovsky
I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius; which to Angels look like torment and insanity. ― William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: A Memorable Fancy, The poetical works of William Blake: including the unpublished French revolution, together with the minor Prophetic books, and selections from The… Continue reading William Blake
For here the day unravels what the night has woven. When we awake each morning, we hold in our hands, usually weakly and loosely, but a few fringes of the tapestry of a lived life, as loomed for us by forgetting. However, with our purposeful activity and, even more, our purposive remembering each day unravels… Continue reading Walter Benjamin
She looked out at the other trees, and she realised that her life was one of thousands, any one of which could have been her, she had grown wherever her life had taken her, she had drifted wherever the wind had blown her. — Dave McKean, Pictures That [Tick]. (Dark Horse Books; First Edition edition… Continue reading Dave McKean
It’s your life, quite possibly your only one. Still you find yourself having a vodka at three a.m., waiting for your pill to kick in, with time ticking through you and your own ghost already wandering among your rooms. — Michael Cunningham, By Nightfall, (Farrar, Straus and Giroux; First Edition edition September 28, 2010)
When there is love, the world is conquered by lovers. All the better for us: we are enriched by their radiance. Their happiness makes the air purer. A poem incarnate. It is beyond criticism. It defies explanation. That defiance is the nature of the poem. — Édouard Boubat, Notebooks, 1998
If desire seizes directly upon its object, contemplation removes its object to a distance, and makes it into a true and inalienable possession by putting it beyond the reach of passion. — Friedrich von Schiller, Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man. (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform December 10, 2015)
The future is a monotonous instrument. — Francis Picabia
