Mon enfant, ma soeur, Songe à la douceur D’aller là-bas vivre ensemble!– Baudelaire, L’Invitation au voyage (via christenamalia) The fact that I wrote a paper on this sort of takes away from its romanticism for me, but it also sort of deepens my appreciation.
An Existential Life: The Critic as Artist, Oscar... →
fuckyeahexistentialism: Ernest: Must we go, then, to Art for everything? Gilbert: For everything. Because Art does not hurt us. The tears that we shed at a play are a type of the exquisite sterile emotions that it is the function of Art to awaken. We weep, but we are not wounded. We grieve, but our grief is not…
The counterpoint is,
some days, you wake up and you’re radiantly hopeful in a way that clears your vision and fills your entire abdomen, and you’re equally unsure why.
They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a...– Banksy (via artparasite)
Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who...– Lemony Snicket (via buckstrickland)
Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.– Carl Sagan (via goldentulips)