#ape

For a second I was almost jealous of the clouds. Why was he looking to them for an escape when I was right here beside him? ↗

— Kamila Shamsie

#escape #jealousy #jealousy

Three centuries after the appearance of Franklin's 'Courant,' it no longer requires a dystopic imagination to wonder who will have the dubious distinction of publishing America's last genuine newspaper. Few believe that newspapers in their current printed form will survive. ↗

— Eric Alterman

#america #appearance #believe #centuries #current

A garden should make you feel you've entered privileged space -- a place not just set apart but reverberant -- and it seems to me that, to achieve this, the gardener must put some kind of twist on the existing landscape, turn its prose into something nearer poetry. ↗

— Michael Pollan

#gardening #landscape #nature #poetry #education

To own the dominant, or only, newspaper in a mid-sized American city was, for many decades, a kind of license to print money. In the Internet age, however, no one has figured out how to rescue the newspaper in the United States or abroad. ↗

— Eric Alterman

#age #american #city #decades #dominant

I think maybe the reason I have spent most of my life being afraid is that I have been trying to prepare myself to train my body for real fear when it comes. But I am not prepared. ↗

— John Green

#life

A demonic reaper asked to be my valentine and then killed his crazy ex-girlfriend to save my life. Tomorrow I was starting up antipsychotic meds. ↗

— Courtney Allison Moulton

#ex-girlfriends #humor #life-saving #meds #reaper

Surely it is an odd way to spend your life - sitting alone in a room with a pen in your hand, hour after hour, day after day, year after year, struggling to put words on pieces of paper in order to give birth to what does not exist, except in your head. Why on earth would anyone want to do such a thing? The only answer I have ever been able to come up with is: because you have to, because you have no choice. ↗

— Paul Auster

#loneliness #paper #words #writer #writing

This was the time in her life that she fell upon books as the only door out of her cell. They became half her world. ↗

— Michael Ondaatje

#escape #literature #reading #words #life

Then from those profound slumbers we awake in a dawn, not knowing who we are, being nobody, newly born, ready for anything, the brain emptied of that past which was life until then. And perhaps it is more wonderful still when our landing at the waking-point is abrupt and the thoughts of our sleep, hidden by a cloak of oblivion, have no time to return to us gradually, before sleep ceases. Then, from the black storm through which we seem to have passed (but we do not even say we), we emerge prostrate, without a thought, a we that is void of content. ↗

— Marcel Proust

#renewal #self #void #life

I like shape very much. A novel has to have shape, and life doesn't have any. ↗

— Jean Rhys

#i #life #like #much #novel