"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations."

- John Green, The Fault in Our Stars (via kari-shma)

"In the morning there is meaning, in the evening there is feeling."

- Gertrude Stein  (via violentwavesofemotion)

(Source: annie, via violentwavesofemotion)

"I was inside you. You contained me. Imprisoned in each other, we were free. You had crept along my blood vessels through the wound, and the blood that circulates returns to the heart. You circulated me, you made me blush like a girl in the hoop of your hands. You were in my arteries and my lymph, you were the colours just under my skin, and If I cut myself, it was you I bled. Red me, alive on my fingers, and always the force of blood pushing you back to my heart."

- Jeanette Winterson, from Lighthousekeeping (via violentwavesofemotion)

"Art is not ideology. It is completely impossible to explain art on the basis of the homological relation that it is supposed to maintain to the real of history. The aesthetic process decentres the specular relation with which ideology perpetuates its closed infinity. The aesthetic effect is certainly imaginary; but this imaginary is not the reflection of the real, since it is the real of this reflection."

- Alain Badiou, The Autonomy of the Aesthetic Process (via agenericsomething)

"Although language bestows identity on being, being is in excess of language."

- Alain Badiou, Infinite Thought (via heteroglossia)

"Real love is one that triumphs lastingly, sometimes painfully,over the hurdles erected by time, space and the world."

- Alain Badiou, In Praise of Love (via mysteroy)

"Une vie, c’est aussi une loi."

- Alain Badiou. (via leblogquicite)

(via l-ll-lll)

"Nothing is more real than nothing."

- Samuel Beckett, Malone Dies (via proustitute)

"There is something maddeningly attractive about the untranslatable, about a word that goes silent in transit."

- Anne Carson, from “Variations on the Right to Remain Silent” (via proustitute)

"Even now, I tell myself, there is a language
to which I might speak and which
would rightly hear me;
responding with eloquence; in its turn,
negotiating sense without insult
given or injury taken.
Familiar to those who already know it
elsewhere as justice,
it is met also in the form of silence."

- Geoffrey Hill, from “The Triumph of Love” (via proustitute)

"What is there of Desire in reading? Desire cannot be named, not even (unlike Demand) expressed. Yet it is certain that there is an eroticism of reading (in reading, desire is there with its object, which is the definition of eroticism). Of this eroticism of reading, there is perhaps no purer apologue than that episode in Proust’s novel where the young Narrator shuts himself up in the Combray bathroom in order to read…

Thus, a desiring reading appears, marked with two institutive features. By shutting himself up to read, by making reading into an absolutely separated, clandestine state in which the whole world is abolished, the reader is identified with two other human subjects—actually quite close to each other—whose state also requires a violent separation: the amorous subject and the mystic subject."

-

Roland Barthes, The Rustle of Language, trans. Richard Howard

(via proustitute)

(via a4rizm)