Everything with me is either worship and passion or pity and understanding. I hate rarely, though when I hate, I hate murderously…but I am more preoccupied with loving. — Anaïs Nin, Henry and June: From “A Journal of Love”–The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin. (Harvest Books; 1 edition October 29, 1990) Originally published 1986.
Desire for a deeper sleep that dissolves more. The metaphysical urge is only the urge towards death. — Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka, 1910-23. (Schocken, October 30, 1988)
I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart’s affections and the truth of the imagination. What imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth. — John Keats, Letters of John Keats to His Family and Friends. (Sagwan Press, August 22, 2015) Originally published January 10th 2008.
I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days – three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain. ― John Keats, Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne. (Penguin Books; Mti edition, September 16, 2009)
\ Too late. The sweetness of sorrow and of love. To be smiled at by her in the boat. That was most beautiful of all. Always only the desire to die and the not-yet-yielding; this alone is love. — Franz Kafka, \ Too late. The sweetness of sorrow and of love. To be smiled at… Continue reading Franz Kafka
Today I will walk in the sun. I will simply walk in the sun. — Charles Bukowski, from a letter to Ann Bauman, Screams From The Balcony: Selected Letters 1960 – 1970 ( HarperCollins e-books, 2009)
Talk to me about sadness. I talk about it too much in my own head but I never mind others talking about it either; I occasionally feel like I tremendously need others to talk about it as well. — Anne Sexton, Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters. (Mariner Books, October 1, 2004) Originally published January… Continue reading Anne Sexton