Don’t despair: despair suggests you are in total control and know what is coming. You don’t – surrender to events with hope. ― Alain de Botton Advertisements
The question is how you rearrange the stars above your head, to open up unexpected paths on the ground beneath your feet. — Brian Holmes, “Guattari’s Schizoanalytic Cartographies” or “The Pathic Core at the Heart of Cybernetics,” Continental Drift.
A blue sheen radiates from my clothes. Midwinter. Jangling tambourines of ice. I close my eyes. There is a soundless world there is a crack where dead people are smuggled across the border. — Tomas Tranströmer, “Midwinter,” Poetry International 2012. Translation: 2002, Robin Fulton.
the silence drinks the slow autumn rain which no longer makes anything good grow the folded hands warm each other the stiff looks fade among the live coals — Gunnar Ekelöf, from “Mirrror of October,” Friends, You Drank Some Darkness, Three Swedish Poets: Harry Martinson, Gunnar Ekelöf & Tomas Tranströmer (Beacon Press, 1975)
You withdraw into your sorrow: this, at least, is yours. — Hans Urs von Balthasar, Heart of the World. (Ignatius Press, June 1, 1980)
If, however, the balloon of one’s life happens to be nine thousand feet up in the air, one doesn’t simply step out of it, even if one doesn’t agree with all that is going on. — Robert Musi
We are neither too late nor too early; an irremediable aspect of time Everything else is nostalgia, in either direction — Göran Sonnevi, Mozart’s Third Brain, transl. by Rika Lesser (Yale University Press, 2009)