#roth

My brother is my best friend. ↗

— Erinn Smart

#best friend #brother #friend

We started out when I was 6 years old. We played ukuleles and sang Everly Brothers songs. ↗

— Edgar Winter

#everly #i #old #out #played

The opportunity for brotherhood presents itself every time you meet a human being. ↗

— Jane Wyman

#being #brotherhood #every #every time #human

My brother's been producing rap music and hip-hop for maybe 10 years. ↗

— Tina Yothers

#brother #hip-hop #maybe #music #producing

The anger subsided, and my shoulders fell. “I know you didn’t. But you have got to curb this overprotective big-brother thing you’ve got going on.” Travis laughed once. “I’m not playing the big brother, Pigeon. Not even close. ↗

— Jamie McGuire

#beautiful-disaster #big-brother #jamie-mcguire #love #sweet

It is really a matter of ending this silence and solitude, of breathing and stretching one's arms again. ↗

— Mark Rothko

#colorfield #modern #rothko #art

The command of the old despotisms was "Thou shalt not". The command of the totalitarians was "Thou shalt". Our command is "Thou art". ↗

— George Orwell

#o-brien #the-party #art

But the young educated adults of the 90s -- who were, of course, the children of the same impassioned infidelities and divorces Mr. Updike wrote about so beautifully -- got to watch all this brave new individualism and self-expression and sexual freedom deteriorate into the joyless and anomic self-indulgence of the Me Generation. Today's sub-40s have different horrors, prominent among which are anomie and solipsism and a peculiarly American loneliness: the prospect of dying without once having loved something more than yourself. ↗

— David Foster Wallace

#norman-mailer #philip-roth #solipsism #beauty

My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight. Her hands asleep beside her. Her hair draped on the lawn like a mantle of cloth. I give her my troth, for our love is whole I sing her beauty in my soul ↗

— Roman Payne

#beauty #eden #eve #inspiration #love

To be or not to be tethered to the sordid, sickly, stinking, sappy apron strings of Hollywood and its endless fondness for fu**ing your sh** up. If Shakespeare were alive today, I bet he’d write a scintillating soliloquy about the Broken Brood of Big Shots. I bet he’d help you out, Micky Affias, ol’ Will the Bard would. Listen, we’ll come visit you. Okay? I’ll dress up as William Shakespeare, Lucent as Emily Dickinson, and beautiful ‘Ray’ as someone dashing and manly like Jules Verne or Ernest Hemingway, and we’ll write on your white-room walls. We’ll write you out of your supposed insanity. I love you, Micky Affias. -James (from "Descendants of the Eminent") ↗

— Tim Cummings

#afterlife #astrology #brothers #children-of-celebrities #class-struggle