#din

We are stripped of all that gave value and substance to our existence: power and love; in this naked final state, our last lover, our mate, death, comes. Bereft, without cover, we face the elements that will undo us. The winter breakers crash over and through us, flaunting their vigor and our nullity, as if the entire cosmos were now taking its ultimate revenge on the human creature who has lived too long: the dying sun mocks us from the west, for it will return tomorrow to die again, but we go down only once; the rising sun mocks us from the east, for we will not share in the rebirth of light and life; the noonday taunts us with its heat and vitality, for we are detritus; the north finally cloaks us in our last vestments: eternal night. That is how it ends. ↗

— Arnold Weinstein

#death #imagination #reading #death

The Winter Photograph was my Ariadne, not because it would help me discover a secret thing (monster or treasure), but because it would tell me what constituted that thread which drew me toward Photography. I had understood that henceforth I must interrogate the evidence of Photography, not from the viewpoint of pleasure, but in relation to what we romantically call love and death. ↗

— Roland Barthes

#photography #understanding #death

What on earth did you say to Isola? She stopped in on her way to pick up Pride and Prejudice and to berate me for never telling her about Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. Why hadn't she known there were better love stories around? Stories not riddled with ill-adjusted men, anguish, death and graveyards! ↗

— Mary Ann Shaffer

#leading-men #literature #pride-and-prejudice #romance #death

Life is the first gift, love is the second, and understanding the third. ↗

— Marge Piercy

#gift #life #love #love is #second

My dear, how can I make you perceive that there is no danger where there is nothing but love and understanding? ↗

— Shirley Jackson

#understanding #love

My parents say you’re no good, Elijah.” I exhaled and killed the cigarette in the grass. Laughing, Eli’s eyes went to my lips and his hands touched my bare midriff. “Really? And what do you say?” He had brought his lips so close to mine that it became hard to think about my next words when all I wanted to do was crush my mouth to his. I wanted him to completely consume me. “I think you’re broken,” I finally got out, and Eli arched a brow. “But I think I’m broken too. I just don’t know it yet. ↗

— Nadège Richards

#death #discovery #falling-in-love #finding-yourself #growing-up

The spirits of the brain are directly connected to the testicles. This is why men who weary their imagination in books are less suitable for procreative functions... ↗

— Louis de la Forge

#books #humor #neurology #reading #sex

Without imagination, there would be no creativity. Without creativity, there would be nothing. ↗

— Aneta Cruz

#life #reading #writing #imagination

That´s the problem with planning a late night supper after the opera, not only does the hero or the heroine die singing, but you end up famished after the last notes of the finale. ↗

— E.A. Bucchianeri

#funny #humor #humorous #humour #life

There is enough said. Trouble no quiet, kind heart; leave sunny imaginations hope. Let it be theirs to conceive the delight of joy born again fresh out of great terror, the rapture of rescue from peril, the wondrous reprieve from dread, the fruition of return. Let them picture union and a happy succeeding life. ↗

— Charlotte Brontë

#emmanuel #happy-endings #hope #love #readers-and-writers