It is the phenomenon sometimes called “alienation from self.” In its advanced stages, we no longer answer the telephone, because someone might want something; that we could say no without drowning in self-reproach is an idea alien to this game. Every encounter demands too much, tears the nerves, drains the will, and the specter of something as small as an unanswered letter arouses such disproportionate guilt that answering it becomes out of the question.
Joan Didion, On Self-Respect, 1961.
@aneid / sydney smith / unknown / @bakwaaas / @nutnoce / @dearestvita
“I like people whose beauty entails something individually captivating; People whose beauty is as pure as tears. Oh how glorious the human heart can be! How terrifying, if it is also linked to the soul (for the heart alone does nothing for me). This idea of the “soul” perpetually haunts me. I keep wondering whether I can altogether love people in case the idea of the soul remains forever an open question to me. I don’t know if what I call “the soul” exists or not but if it does, I imagine it as a slowly dying ember. I imagine it as something dark, tormented and disgustingly gorgeous.”
— Anaïs Nin, Anaïs Nin’s Lost World: Paris In Words And Pictures (via violentwavesofemotion)
Sergei Efron, from a letter to Max Voloshin, referring to Marina Tsvetaeva, featured in Earthly Signs, Moscow Diaries
“Poetry and art and knowledge are sacred and pure.”
— George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss
hearing Americans speak in real life is so jarring omfg... Get back in the TV right now
Sarah Perry, The Essence of Peopling
Ireland, Iran & Lebanon
reading in bed. painting by marta astrain.