Minimalist Quotation Print, Ryan McArthur
all i really want to do is spend my life travelling the world, reading books, drinking all kinds of tea and occasionally, if not to make a living - writing something. preferably in london...xx
Ask me anything
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013
"VI. He never broke my heart. He only turned it into a compass that always points me back to him."
— Clementine von Radics, In Defense of Loving Him (after Megan Falley)
(Source: notafuckinglady)
May 20, 2013
For all the artists out there. xoxo
May 20, 2013
"I opened my mouth, almost said something. Almost. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I had. But I didn’t."
— Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner (via larmoyante)
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013
"Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are ‘It might have been.’"
— Kurt Vonnegut, Cat’s Cradle (via mynameiscollins)
May 20, 2013
"We want the spring to come and the winter to pass. We want whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss- we want more and more and then more of it. But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass, say the window of the corner video store, and I’m gripped by a cherishing so deep for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I’m speechless: I am living…"
— Marie Howe, from What The Living Do (via fivegiraffes)
May 20, 2013
This morning I was thinking about how important it is to choose a direction with your work and then move the fuck on already. Like there are so many possibilities for storytelling in the universe, now more than ever, and you just have to choose a way, just one, and run with it. Instagram it or tweet it or make a video or a podcast or write a book about it and make it in first person or third person or second person or make up your own person if those don’t work. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Just pick one.
Sometimes people think the picking of the direction is the hardest part, but it’s not. The making of the art is the hardest part. The picking is just you procrastinating or questioning your abilities.
I feel like people are always asking me: How do you know? How do you know you’ve chosen the right way? Also people like to ask: How do you know when you’re done?
How the fuck do you know anything, of course.
There are people who revise and rewrite, rewrite and revise. For years, they can do this quite blissfully. Their books will likely gleam more than mine ever could.
But I can’t do it that way because I just want to be done already. I chose a path for this book and I’m following it and I could be entirely wrong but at least I made a decision.
I was telling Stefan and Goodwillie the other night that I don’t even really care about sentences anymore, I just want to get this story written. I just want to tell this truth. A truth that I have made up, but a truth nonetheless.
I also sort of don’t even give a shit about metaphors anymore because everything is a goddamn metaphor anyway. If you let it or want it to be. Everything already exists as a symbol of something else.
Just pick a symbol.
…
I got a lot of fresh air this morning.
May 20, 2013
"Listen, I don’t care what you say about my race, creed, or religion, Fatty, but don’t tell me I’m not sensitive to beauty. That’s my Achilles’ heel, and don’t you forget it. To me, everything is beautiful. Show me a pink sunset, and I’m limp, by God. Anything. Peter Pan. Even before the curtain goes up at Peter Pan I’m a goddamn puddle of tears."
— J.D. Salinger (via starthandingoutstars)
May 20, 2013
"Nobody can build the bridge for you to walk across the river of life, no one but you yourself alone. There are, to be sure, countless paths and bridges and demi-gods which would carry you across this river; but only at the cost of yourself; you would pawn yourself and lose. There is in the world only one way, on which nobody can go, except you: where does it lead? Do not ask, go along with it."
— Friedrich Nietzsche, Untimely Meditations (via ludimagister)
May 20, 2013
“Beauty, the world seemed to say. And as if to prove it (scientifically) wherever he looked at the houses, at the railings, at the antelopes stretching over the palings, beauty sprang instantly. To watch a leaf quivering in the rush of air was an exquisite joy. Up in the sky swallows swooping, swerving, flinging themselves in and out, round and round, yet always with perfect control as if elastics held them; and the flies rising and falling; and the sun spotting now this leaf, now that, in mockery, dazzling it with soft gold in pure good temper; and now again some chime (it might be a motor horn) tinkling divinely on the grass stalks—all of this, calm and reasonable as it was, made out of ordinary things as it was, was the truth now; beauty, that was the truth now. Beauty was everywhere.”
―Virginia Woolf, “Mrs. Dalloway,” published on this day in 1925
May 20, 2013
"The most solid advice for a writer is this, I think: Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough."
— William Saroyen (via glorifythehour)
May 20, 2013
"We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright."
— Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast (via larmoyante)
May 20, 2013
"I don’t think there’s anything sadder than when two people are meant to be together and something intervenes."
— Walter Bishop (via rosettes)
(via rosettes)
May 16, 2013
Freud - Civilisation and its Discontents
In a very important sense, civilisation in Freud, at least that aspect of it which he thinks of as a socialised super-ego, is merely a cultural metaphor for the psychic fulfilment in each of us a narcissistically thrilling wish to destroy the world, a wish ‘fulfilled’ in a monstrously ingenious phantasmatic scenario of self-destruction. (xix)
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