#birth

You do not have to be alone. The world never inflicts loneliness upon us. That is something we choose or reject by ourselves. ↗

— Darren Shan

#loneliness #birth

Backlock, a poet blind from his birth, could describe visual objects with accuracy; Professor Sanderson, who was also blind, gave excellent lectures on color, and taught others the theory of ideas which they had and he had not. In the social sphere these gifted ones are mostly women; they can watch a world which they never saw, and estimate forces of which they have only heard. We call it intuition. ↗

— Thomas Hardy

#birth

She wanted to eat my heart and be lost in the desert with what she'd done, she wanted to fall on her knees and give birth from it, she wanted to hurt me as only a child can be hurt by its mother. ↗

— Denis Johnson

#heart #mother #birth

Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more. ↗

— Samuel Beckett

#birth

Maura had decided sometime before Blue's birth that it was barbaric to order children about, and so Blue had grown up surrounded by imperative question marks. ↗

— Maggie Stiefvater

#raven-boys #birth

He squinted at me. "What are you wearing? Is that some new form of birth control? ↗

— Janet Evanovich

#birth

Venus of Willendorf carries her cave with her. She is blind, masked. Her ropes of corn-row hair look forward to the invention agriculture. She has a furrowed brow. Her facelessness is the impersonality of primitive sex and religion. There is no psychology or identity yet, because there is no society, no cohesion. Men cower and scatter at the blast of the elements. Venus of Willendorf is eyeless because nature can be seen but not known. She is remote even as she kills and creates. The statuette, so overflowing and protuberant, is ritually invisible. She stifles the eye. She is the cloud of archaic night. ↗

— Camille Paglia

#sexual-personae #the-birth-of-the-western-eye #art

There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval. ↗

— George Santayana

#cure #death #enjoy #interval #save

Imagine the state of one's mind if they were to recall its details. All those months cocooned and then the onslaught of this ugly world. Lights and noise and strangeness. It's no wonder we scream with terror at our birth. ↗

— Melina Marchetta

#being-born #birth #imagination

My dreams died nine months before I was born
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#born #death #died #dreams #death