" I didn’t say I liked it. I said it fascinated me. There is a great difference. "

Siamo circondati da poesia, non trovare ispirazione è un chiaro sintomo di cecità emotiva.

(Fonte: milo74)

" Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep. "
" I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know? "
" I was told people can’t be in two places at once, but I think it’s possible. In fact, I’m sure of it. While they’re still alive, people can become ghosts. "
" Your body
Hurts me as the world hurts God. "
" Madness is like intelligence, you know. You can’t explain it. Just like intelligence. It comes on you, it fills you, and then you understand it. But when it goes away you can’t understand it at all any longer. "

You do get to a certain point in life where you have to realistically, I think, understand that the days are getting shorter, and you can’t put things off thinking you’ll get to them some day.

There are simply too many people getting sick, and sooner or later you will.
So I’m very much a believer in knowing what it is that you love doing so you can do a great deal of it.

" She tastes like every dark thought I’ve ever had. "
" A man has but one body, like a single cell.
The soul is sick and tired of it’s too solid shell, with ears, mouth, eyes the size of a nickel coin and skin all scarred and diced, spread over a skeleton.
Through cornea it wings to a heavenly spring, to ice-laden slings, to a chariot birds bring.
It hears through the grating of it’s living prison pen.
The fields’ and forests’ rattling, the Even Seas’ refrain.
Without body a soul’s nude, as a body’s nude without a shirt: no thought’s forthcoming, no good, no idea’s born and no word.
A question that has no answer: whoever can come back from the floor where no dancer was ever to leave track?
I dream of another soul, in quite a different garb: while shifting between dole and hope, it burns up, like alcohol, and goes away, casts no shadow and just leaves as mementoes the lilacs smelling of meadow.
Run on, my child, do not lament the fate of poor Eurydice, just keep on driving to globes’ end.
Your copper hoop for all to see, as long as answering to your step. However slight might be a tone;
the earth sends signals gay and pep to every energetic bone. "