September 2011
4 posts
“Forgetfulness heals everything and song is the most beautiful manner of forgetting, for in song man feels only what he loves.” ― Ivo Andrić, The Bridge on the Drina
November 2010
1 post
July 2010
18 posts
“The Next Time
Perfection is out of the question for people like us,
so why...”
– Mark Strand
“Most people think everybody feels about them much more violently than they...”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald, “Tender is the Night”
“The anxiety of loving Chloe was in part the anxiety of being in a position where...”
– “Essays in Love” by Alain de Botton. (via good friend Sangwon)
David Foster Wallace
“Many of the most important impressions and thoughts in a person’s life are ones that flash through your head so fast that fast isn’t even the right word, they seem totally different from or outside of the regular sequential clock time we all live by, and they have so little relation to the sort of linear, one-word-after-another English we all communicate with each other with that it could...
“Science-scientif reasoning- seems to me an instrument that will lag far, far...”
– Vincent Van Gogh. Letter to Emilie Bernard. June 1888
“From Archaeology
one moral, at least, may be drawn,
to wit, that all
our...”
– Auden
June 2010
9 posts
May 2010
8 posts
“Basically, human beings are categorized as either “hedgehogs” or...”
April 2010
8 posts
Lovelist Words I Tasted Today
The Joy of Less by Pico Iyer
“The beat of my heart has grown deeper, more active, and yet more peaceful, and it is as if I were all the time storing up inner riches…My [life] is one long sequence of inner miracles.” The young Dutchwoman Etty Hillesum wrote that in a Nazi transit camp in 1943, on her way to her death at Auschwitz two months later. Towards the end of his life, Ralph Waldo...
“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish...”
– Anaïs Nin (via neuroerotique) (via sangwonyoon, kari-shma)
March 2010
14 posts
Typical Sunday
I love the Sunday Times. I do. I love the idea it, I love it in a heaping pile on a coffee table in a cafe on Ave. A, I love it online, I love it even on Monday. France has no equivalent, and for its uniqueness, I love it even more. I have a small hunch that we’re going to be together forever.
The Sunday Times for me is equivalent to a prolonged session of literary people-watching. ...
