#ky

In his autobiography Stravinsky relates that the first music he remembers was made by a peasant, working his hand in his armpit to produce a rhytmic farting. ↗

— Craig Raine

#music #stravinsky #music

The enormous lake stretched flat and smooth and white all the way to the edge of the gray sky. Wagon tracks went away across it, so far that you could not see where they went; they ended in nothing at all. ↗

— Laura Ingalls Wilder

#away #could #edge #ended #enormous

I've told my children that when I die, to release balloons in the sky to celebrate that I graduated. For me, death is a graduation. ↗

— Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

#balloons #celebrate #children #die #graduated

Certainly, the terror of a deserted house swells in geometrical rather than arithmetical progression as houses multiply to form a city of stark desolation. The sight of such endless avenues of fishy-eyed vacancy and death, and the thought of such linked infinities of black, brooding compartments given over to cob-webs and memories and the conqueror worm, start up vestigial fears and aversions that not even the stoutest philosophy can disperse. ↗

— H.P. Lovecraft

#spooky #terror #death

I've cut my teeth as a coach with some great head coaches and some great co-workers and I have been very lucky to have learned a lot of football from all of the above. ↗

— Mike Tice

#been #co-workers #coach #coaches #cut

The country people, indeed, did not always clearly distinguish between the Fairies and the dead. They called them both the 'Silent People'; and the Milky Way they thought was the path along which the dead were carried to Fairyland. ↗

— Hope Mirrlees

#fairies #fairy #fairyland #silent-people #the-dead

Normal people don’t know how lucky—how blessed—they are. ↗

— Darren Shan

#normal #death

After that there was silence for a while, only the sound of the shovel biting into the earth and the hissing splatter of the loose dirt. They stood him up, his back to the well. In the dark, desperate sky, just above the scalloped line the treetops made, three stars formed a pleading little constellation. No one looked at them, no one cared. This was the time for death, not the time for mercy. ("The Number's Up") ↗

— Cornell Woolrich

#death #night #night-sky #sky #death

This denial is bizarre. Last time Chomsky denied something I attributed to him, it was Chomsky's word against mine and there was no way to resolve this argument. This time, however, there's some fairly conclusive evidence. Look at http://blog.zmag.org/ttt/. It describes itself as 'the official weblog of Professor Noam Chomsky', and it is attached to Z Magazine, for which Chomsky has regularly written for over a decade. It claims Chomsky makes direct blog entries. Yet Chomsky claims he has 'nothing to with with it'. Are we really meant to believe this? If it is true, why does he carry on writing for a magazine that publishes a false blog in his name? ↗

— Johann Hari

#england #media-lens #noam-chomsky #z-communications #communication

And anyway, the first three letters in the word diet should tell you what I want it to do. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#dieting #hush-hush #vee-sky #diet