#dj

Man, didn't anybody ever tell you that art is propaganda? It doesn't matter whether you think it should be or it shouldn't be, it just is, and motherfucker, like or not, you're sitting on a funky Magna Carta. ↗

— Paul Beatty

#dj-blaze #humor #music #art

...even misplaced faith can help us gain knowledge. We try to be smart about where we put our faith and we adjust as we learn more. ↗

— Brandon Mull

#doubt #faith #learning #faith

The most difficult thing to adjust to, apparently, is peace and contentment. ↗

— Henry Miller

#contentment #life #peace #life

bitch power is the juice, the sweat, the blood that keeps pop music going. Rick James helped me understand the lesson of the eighth-grade dance: Bitch power rules the world. If the girls don't like the music, they sit down and stop the show. You gotta have a crowd if you wanna have a show. And the girls are the show. We're talking absolute monarchy, with no rules of succession. Bitch power. She must be obeyed. She must be feared. ↗

— Rob Sheffield

#music #rick-james #women #love

how long is forever when you can stop the time for a while to see...the sunrise? ↗

— Haidji

#ebook #goodread #haidji #lide-into-mist #life

Hey wedding DJ, there is no way in hell I'm paying you $1,000 when all you're doing is plugging your iPod into the sound system #AHOLE ↗

— Andy Ostrom

#dance #dj #etiquette #marriage #wedding

Je suis extrêmement ému. Pour faire diversion je demande où elle dîne. Et soudain cette légèreté que je n’ai vue qu’à elle, cette liberté peut-être précisément : "Où (le doigt tendu :) mais là, où là (les deux restaurants les plus proches), où je suis, voyons. C’est toujours ainsi. " Sur le point de m’en aller, je veux lui poser une question qui résume toutes les autres, une question qu’il n’y a que moi pour poser, sans doute : "Qui êtes-vous ? " Et elle, sans hésiter : "Je suis l’âme errante. ↗

— André Breton

#men

I myself am opaque, for some reason. Their eyes cannot see me. Yes, that's it: The world is autistic with respect to me. ↗

— Anne Nesbet

#autism #fitting-in #respect

Oh heaven and hell, stop with the tears. Given the day Sarah had just had, the tears were logical. But watching her face crumple, hearing the gut-deep harsh sobs, filled Rukh with an irrational need to pull her into his arms, wrap her in a hug. As soon as the urge had gelled into conscious thought, his essence hardened into visibility and his arms slid up around her shivering, wet body. Sarah’s eyes popped open and she staggered back with a yell. His arms tightened around her, steadying her, keeping her close. Well, shit. At least, she’d stopped crying. Fear-bright green eyes stared at him instead. Given he was an assassin, sent to kill her, her response was natural, even intelligent. Yet, bitterness churned in his gut at the thought of her fearing him. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe.” “Am I hallucinating?” Her question came out as a croak. “Yes, yes you are.” That seemed a much better answer than the truth. She pinned him with her dark, direct gaze. “You’re just a figment of my imagination. A fantasy?” “Yes.” He didn’t dare move. “Then why are you still wearing clothes? ↗

— Mina Khan

#erotic-romance #fantasy #genies #paranormal #romance

An epic is not made by piecing together a set of heroic lays, adjusting their discrepancies and making them into a continuous narrative. ↗

— Lascelles Abercrombie

#continuous #epic #heroic #into #lays