Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.
Anton Chekhov (via introspectivepoet)

Marilyn Monroe in How to Marry a Millionaire (1953)

The shade
falls like a lover’s sad black eyes.
Lie under me, speak of other worlds.

Jane Miller, closing lines to “I Saw the Sun Rise in the West Today,” Mississippi Review (vol. 39, no. 1-3, 2012)
Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar…
William Faulkner, The Sound and Fury (via introspectivepoet)
Most of our childhood is stored not in photos, but in certain biscuits, lights of day, smells, textures of carpet.
Alain de Botton (via wordsthat-speak)

mymodernmet:

Artist Vik Muniz uses thousands of torn scraps of paper to recreate classical, 19th-century paintings from the likes of Van Gogh, Manet, and Degas.

Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly. It is the one thing we are interested in here.
Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (via introspectivepoet)

After I killed him, I dropped the gun in the Thames, washed the residue off me hands in the bathroom of a Burger King, and walked home to await instructions. Shortly thereafter the instructions came through - “Get the fuck out of London, you dumb fucks. Get to Bruges.” I didn’t even know where Bruges fucking was.

It’s in Belgium.


In Bruges (2008)
I don’t make up marvelous tales. I only try to express — as clearly as possible — the thoughts and feelings many people have. Often my subjects are the simplest things in the world: joy, family, the weather, houses, streets. Nothing fancy. And when I sit down with these subjects my aim is clarity. I’m really trying to clear some of the muddle from my own brain — my brain being a very muddled place indeed. Sometimes I think my whole professional life has been based on this hunch I had, early on, that many people feel just as muddled as I do, and might be happy to tag along with me on this search for clarity, for precision. I love that aspect of writing. Nothing makes me happier than to hear a reader say: that’s just what I’ve always felt, but you said it clearly.
Zadie Smith, in her acceptance remarks for the 2014 Moth Award (via booksmatter)
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