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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #rite
She texted Ava and Felicity and asked them to make informal advances to the town council and ask if she could establish AA meetings in Paradise. She sent the messages and hid the phone down her knickers again to avoid detection on room spot checks for contraband by Nurse Fiona. She laid back and slept soundly for the night. During the night a number of males had slipped their names and room numbers under her door for adult company if she was lonely at any stage, kind souls. It took two days but when Angelina was in the gym her phone in her knickers began to vibrate and she ran into the toilet to read her text messages the men that mattered from Paradise said yes to AA ↗
If there is to be no ceiling on the amount of money a man can take out of our economy, then concomitantly there can be no foundation below which a human being cannot sink. What capitalists must realize is that you are fighting to make capitalism survive, not destroy it; you are fighting to eliminate the seeds of destruction inherent in the status quo." ~Kurt Vonnegut, Jr's letter to Don Matchan, 27 April 1947 ↗
When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even of a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious Jane Austen, some Emily Bronte who dashed her brains out on the moor or mopped and mowed about the highways crazed with the torture that her gift had put her to. Indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman. ↗
To most, being locked away in solitary with nothing but pen and paper would prove a hard punishment. What a strange creature who views this as heaven. ↗
#richelle #richelle-goodrich #writers #writing #richelle-goodrich
And people turn to internet with the hope that in this virtual world, where real identity need not be disclosed, they will find someone before whom they could be their true self,without any pretensions and get an opportunity to release the pent-up emotions and feel light. ↗
A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped Carrot On my bed, my green comforter draped over my knees like a lumpy turtle, I think about the Berlin Wall of years that separates us. In my own life, the years are beginning to stack up like a Guinness World Record’s pile of pancakes, yet I’m still searching for some kind of syrup to believe in. In the shadows of my pink sheet, I see your face, Desnos’ face, and two clock faces staring at each other. I see a gaping wound that ebbs rose petals, while a sweaty armpit holds an orchestra. Beethoven, maybe. A lover sings a capella, with the frothiness of a cappuccino. Starbucks, maybe. There’s an hourglass, too, and beneath the sands lie untapped oil reserves. I see Dali’s mustache, Magritte’s pipe, and bowling shoes, which leaves the question-- If you could time travel through a trumpet, would you find today and tomorrow too loud? ↗
