tamsoj
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infj-a | xxxi | usa
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tamsoj · 2 months ago
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The pen cannot step into this court, and the ink gives no result but blackness.
Eric Hammond, The Splendour of God, 1909
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tamsoj · 2 months ago
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Heart alone can communicate to heart the state of the knower (of divine secrets); this is not the work of a messenger, nor can this be contained in letters. On many points I keep silent because of my inability; to state them is beyond speech, and if I say them my words would be insufficient.
Eric Hammond, The Splendour of God, 1909
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tamsoj · 4 months ago
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The moments of our life are not expendable, And the [possible] circumstances of death are beyond imagination.
The Tibetan Book of the Dead
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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i set the paper aside break my pen name myself silence
Rumi
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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Rumi
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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if you seek eternity don't fall asleep get into love's fire
Rumi
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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there was a time when my thought soared as a king or a time when i mourned like a prisoner those days are gone and i have promised not to take myself seriously again
Rumi
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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those eyes of yours teach me divine laws that love of yours makes my soul spark if i'm safe from evil eyes it's only because i'm blessed by your eyes
Rumi
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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all i've asked from you is you and you again
Rumi
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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Sylvia Plath, "Ennui"
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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In the central channel branch of the skull, within one's brain,
Amidst an expanse of light, composed of flaming seminal points of rainbow-light,
The Tibetan Book of the Dead
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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and if your brain is stuck then begin whispering remembrance (prayers) remembrance will elate the brain make that the sunshine of your depressed soul
Rumi
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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as soon as you saw the loyalty of my heart you turned around and flew like a bird
Rumi
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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Seated upon lotus, sun and moon cushions,
[Symbolising the union of] radiance and emptiness.
The Tibetan Book of the Dead
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tamsoj · 5 months ago
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A. R. Ammons, from a poem titled "Shot Glass," featured in The New Yorker
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tamsoj · 6 months ago
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July 16, 1925 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]
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