ghostparade reblogged
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Submitted by notsocommon14.
Source: aseaofquotes
ghostparade reblogged
The only way to be quiet
is to be quick, so I scare
you clumsily, or surprise
you with a stab.
Frank O’Hara, from “Poetry” in Collected Poems (via proustitute)
ghostparade reblogged
Kate Morton, The Distant Hours
Source: aseaofquotes
ghostparade reblogged
“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good, and the very gentle, and the very brave, impartially.”
— Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
ghostparade reblogged
Dean Koontz, Forever Odd
Source: aseaofquotes
ghostparade reblogged
violentwavesofemotion-deactivat
Many nights I wake in a shudder thinking of some atrocity of mine. I bring home minute pinpricks which magnify in the middle of the night into gaping wounds.
Viriginia Woolf, from Selected Diaries (via violentwavesofemotion)
ghostparade reblogged
likeafieldmouse-deactivated2015
Loneliness does not come from having no people around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you.
Carl Jung (via ontheedgeofdarkness)
ghostparade reblogged
awritersruminations-deactivated
I read poems. I write. That is my destiny. Standing on the edge of the cliff about to fall into the abyss, I remember who I am. I am a young poet, a writer. I am here to make words. I have the power to pull myself back from death—to keep myself alive.
—bell hooks, Bone Black: Memories of Girlhood
ghostparade reblogged
it’s always 3:23 am on every clock in every house everywhere. little eskimo girls are bleeding 3:23 am right now. my heart is beating 3:23 am. there is a man across the street by the train, waiting to sell flowers to people who buy flowers at 3:23 am. i wonder if they are buying them for love or for forgiveness. -V.M. from “Please Do Not Die On Me: A Love Letter”
ghostparade reblogged
Let me just say this: I’m going to kiss you until my lips fall off. If my lips don’t fall off, I will kiss up your spine until I run out of spine. Then I’ll start over. by Gregory Sherl, “Notes On A Candy Cane Tree”
ghostparade reblogged
Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame.
Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway (via fuckyeahvirginiawoolf)
ghostparade reblogged
Once you reach what is
inside it is outside.
Frank Bidart, from “The Third Hour of the Night” (via proustitute)
ghostparade reblogged
likeafieldmouse-deactivated2015
ghostparade reblogged
violentwavesofemotion-deactivat
Then I ignored spring. I struck out memory with an “X” but it came back. I tied down time with a rope but it came back. Then I put my head in a death bowl and my eyes shut up like clams. They did not come back. My hands were fastened down to oblivion. They did not come back. Next I took my ears, these two cold moons and drowned them in the Atlantic. They were not wearing a mask. They were not deceived by laughter. I waited with my bones on the cliff to see if they’d float in like slick but they did not come back. I could not see the spring. I could not hear the spring. I could not touch the spring. Once upon a time a young person died for no reason. I was the same.
Anne Sexton, Killing The Spring (via ontheedgeofdarkness)
ghostparade reblogged
Cory Doctorow, Little Brother
Submitted by scratchthatreverseit.
Source: aseaofquotes
ghostparade reblogged
In a sense, and as in melodrama, killing yourself amounts to confessing. It is confessing that life is too much for you or that you do not understand it.
Albert Camus - “An Absurd Reasoning,” The Myth of Sisyphus (via ontheedgeofdarkness)