kshitigarbhastuff

[kshitigarbhastuff]

Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering.

Paulo Coelho

[kshitigarbhastuff]

the flesh covers the bone

and they put a mind

in there and

sometimes a soul,

and the women break

vases against the walls

and the men drink too

much

and nobody finds the

one

but keep

looking

crawling in and out

of beds.

flesh covers

the bone and the

flesh searches

for more than

flesh.

there's no chance

at all:

we are all trapped

by a singular

fate.

nobody ever finds

the one.

the city dumps fill

the junkyards fill

the madhouses fill

the hospitals fill

the graveyards fill

nothing else

fills.

Charles Bukowski

[kshitigarbhastuff]

I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it. To be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once.

Haruki Murakami

[kshitigarbhastuff]

I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.

Jane Austen

[kshitigarbhastuff]

I don't care how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, it's enough to know that for some people they exist, and that they dance.

Mary Oliver

[kshitigarbhastuff]

I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing.

Anaïs Nin

[kshitigarbhastuff]

No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.

Charles Dickens

[kshitigarbhastuff]

Years of love have been forgot, In the hatred of a minute.

Edgar Allan Poe

[kshitigarbhastuff]

Once for all; I knew to my sorrow, often and often, if not always, that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be. Once for all; I love her none the less because I knew it, and it had no more influence in restraining me, than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection.

Charles Dickens

[kshitigarbhastuff]

Beware, for I am fearless and therefore powerful.

I will watch with the wiliness of a snake, that I may sting with its venom.

Mary Shelley

[kshitigarbhastuff]

Be careful, we are not in Wonderland. I’ve heard the strange madness long growing in your soul. But you are fortunate in your ignorance, in your isolation. You who have suffered, find where love hides. Give, share, lose—lest we die, unbloomed.

Allen Ginsberg (Daniel Radcliffe), Kill Your Darlings 2013

[kshitigarbhastuff]

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink

Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;

Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink

And rise and sink and rise and sink again;

Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,

Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;

Yet many a man is making friends with death

Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.

It well may be that in a difficult hour,

Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,

Or nagged by want past resolution's power,

I might be driven to sell your love for peace,

Or trade the memory of this night for food.

It well may be. I do not think I would.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

[kshitigarbhastuff]

I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.

Isaac Newton

[kshitigarbhastuff]

Now, every time I witness a strong person, I want to know: what dark did you conquer in your story? Mountains do not rise without earthquakes.

Katherine MacKenett

[kshitigarbhastuff]

We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

Prof. John Keating (Robin Williams), Dead Poets Society 1989

[kshitigarbhastuff]

It is a curious thing the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited. And that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it's always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.

Daniel Handler

[kshitigarbhastuff]

She was fierce, she was strong, she wasn't simple. She was crazy and sometimes she barely slept. She always had something to say. She had flaws and that was ok. And when she was down, she got right back up. She was a beast in her own way, but one idea described her best. She was unstoppable and she took anything she wanted with a smile.

R. M. Drake