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Ago 5
Sylvia Plath was a troubled person throughout all her life. Yet, sometimes it’s geniuses we get from such harsh life conditions, and their geniality lies in making masterful art out of harshness and pain.
Departure
The figs on the fig tree in the yard are green; Green, also, the grapes on the green vine 
Shading the brickred porch tiles. 
The money’s run out.
How nature, sensing this, compounds her bitters. 
Ungifted, ungrieved, our leavetaking. 
The sun shines on unripe corn. 
Cats play in the stalks.
Retrospect shall not often such penury- 
Sun’s brass, the moon’s steely patinas, 
The leaden slag of the world- 
But always expose
The scraggy rock spit shielding the town’s blue bay 
Against which the brunt of outer sea 
Beats, is brutal endlessly. 
Gull-fouled, a stone hut
Bares its low lintel to corroding weathers: 
Across the jut of ochreous rock 
Goats shamble, morose, rank-haired, 
To lick the sea-salt.

Sylvia Plath was a troubled person throughout all her life. Yet, sometimes it’s geniuses we get from such harsh life conditions, and their geniality lies in making masterful art out of harshness and pain.

Departure

The figs on the fig tree in the yard are green; Green, also, the grapes on the green vine 

Shading the brickred porch tiles. 

The money’s run out.

How nature, sensing this, compounds her bitters. 

Ungifted, ungrieved, our leavetaking. 

The sun shines on unripe corn. 

Cats play in the stalks.

Retrospect shall not often such penury- 

Sun’s brass, the moon’s steely patinas, 

The leaden slag of the world- 

But always expose

The scraggy rock spit shielding the town’s blue bay 

Against which the brunt of outer sea 

Beats, is brutal endlessly. 

Gull-fouled, a stone hut

Bares its low lintel to corroding weathers: 

Across the jut of ochreous rock 

Goats shamble, morose, rank-haired, 

To lick the sea-salt.

Par Marguerite Duras.
Génial. 

Par Marguerite Duras.

Génial. 

There are architects and gardeners. The architects do blueprints before they drive the first nail, they design the entire house, where the pipes are running, and how many rooms there are going to be, how high the roof will be. But the gardeners just dig a hole and plant the seed and see what comes up. I think all writers are partly architects and partly gardeners, but they tend to one side or another, and I am definitely more of a gardener. In my Hollywood years when everything does work on outlines, I had to put on my architect’s clothes and pretend to be an architect. But my natural inclinations, the way I work, is to give my characters the head and to follow them.

-

George R. R. Martin, on writing and writers. 

"El reportaje era para mí un género literario. Yo llegué al periodismo con vocación y aptitudes de escritor. Lo que hice fue aplicar al periodismo las mismas técnicas de la literatura. No hay otro secreto que ése".

-

Gabriel García Márquez, sobre el periodismo, y el reportaje.

I don’t want to live, I want to love first and live incidentally.

-

Zelda Fitzgerald (via observando)

For things like this, Zelda, I’m your fan forever ♥

Sigmund. Franz. Gregor.
PERFECTION.

Sigmund. Franz. Gregor.

PERFECTION.

(Fuente: cseszlovak)

Le Petit Prince

Chapitre VI

- Un jour, j’ai vu le soleil se coucher quarante-trois fois! 

Et un peu plus tard tu ajoutais: 

- Tu sais… quand on est tellement triste on aime les couchers de soleil… 

- Le jour des quarante-trois fois tu étais donc tellement triste?

Mais le Petit Prince ne répondit pas.

Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark, 
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 
Within his bending sickle’s compass come; 
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 

Yes… because stardust envelops stars, Virginia.

Yes… because stardust envelops stars, Virginia.

Mar 4
"Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches”.

One of my all times favorite poems by Robert Frost, that Nature genie of New England. 
"Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches”.

One of my all times favorite poems by Robert Frost, that Nature genie of New England. 

This is one of the many quotes of Atticus that simply make me ADORE him.
… and this novel, forever.

-

You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.

Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

(via liquidnight)

Mar 3

I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.

-

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via observando)

Oh, Sylvia, my tortured namesake…

sadness.

jaycerxsiempre:

Svalbard, Noruega. Por Wilfred Berthelsen

Panserbjørne, IOREK BYRNISON, SVALBARD... and the novel “Northern Lights”. 
♥

jaycerxsiempre:

Svalbard, Noruega. Por Wilfred Berthelsen

Panserbjørne, IOREK BYRNISON, SVALBARD... and the novel “Northern Lights”. 

When two people meet, each one is changed by the other so you’ve got two new people.

- John Steinbeck

Feb 7
Yes, the best people are all bonkers ^_^

Yes, the best people are all bonkers ^_^