#rip

Perfection is finally attained not when there is no longer anything to add but when there is no longer anything to take away, when a body has been stripped down to its nakedness. ↗

— Antoine de Saint-Exupery

#anything #attained #away #been #body

She danced so curving, lissom, like the laughter of the song. She sent resounding into spaace and down the ages long. ↗

— Tui Allen

#age

She left her keys in the teeth of the lock where they would dangle all day. ↗

— Karen Thompson Walker

#age

In the year of Christ 1571, at the age of thirty-eight, on the last day of February, anniversary of his birth, Michel de Montaigne, lon weary of the servitude of the court and of public employments, while still entire, retired to the bosom of the learned Virgins [Muses], where in calm and freedom from all cares he will spend what little remains of his life now more than half run out. If the fates permit, he will completethis abode, this sweet ancestral retreat; and he has consecrated it to his freedom, tranquility, and leisure. ↗

— Michel de Montaigne

#age

how impossibly clean-cut, with its twin sets of twelve, neat as walnut shells. ↗

— Karen Thompson Walker

#age

The butterflies have flown away, like my ignorance and youth. ↗

— Eileen Granfors

#coming-of-age #mariposas #age

At last he said, "Did you come out of the big mountains?" Gitano shook his head slowly. "No, I walked down the Salinas Valley." The afternoon thought would not let Joey go. "Did you ever go into the big mountains back there?" The old dark eyes grew fixed, and their light turned inward on the years that were living in Gitano's head. ↗

— John Steinbeck

#description #age

Trinity Park lies directly across from the library, Trinity Church rising like a midieval thought amidst the glass and steel towers. ↗

— Nick Flynn

#boston #description #ethereal #architecture

Perhaps this is the purpose of all art, all writing, on the murders, fiction and non-fiction: Simply to participate. ↗

— Alan Moore

#murder #whitechapel #art

Dad used to read aloud to us from Dickens and Kipling. My tastes were omnivorous. I read anything I could lay my hands on, but the memory that stays with me is that of my father reading the Jungle Books to us when we were young. Beautiful stories! ↗

— A.B. Guthrie

#childhood-memory #childhood-stories #dickens #interview-transcription #kipling