Nothing bad can happen to a writer. Everything is material.
— Philip Roth (via e-pal)
(via leprintemps)
uncross your ankles, unclench your philosophy.
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2012-05-23
Source: e-pal
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→
(via danzijs)
Source: b0unty
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Graham Foust, “Number One Hit Song”
The above is leaf-math,
a high
block of cottonwood.I am for volume.
I am for tubes in and out of the sick.If heaven were only
where only
you could hurt you,I would touch its dead and broadcast
their entire range of breakage.I would breathe to within
a skin’s-width
of my sleep.I would make a little nimbus there,
a clear heart for moths to toss against.Late and unancient, inexact
as hands, I would move
as if by choice into my life.—Necessary Stranger; Flood Editions, 2007
(via leopoldgursky)
Source: gammasandgerunds
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Q.1. Do you intend your poetry to be useful to yourself or others?
A. Not consciously. Perhaps I don’t like the word useful.— Wallace Stevens, New Verse “Enquiry,” October 1934 (via leopoldgursky)
Source: leopoldgursky
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Hanelli for Rag&Bone DIY
Source: danzijs
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Hanelli for Rag&Bone DIY
Source: danzijs
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2012-05-16
Last paper on Friday morning.
Paris, the Alps, writing, moving, Warwick, Brussels, Amsterdam, Essex, interning, Beijing, Hong Kong, Magazine work… Please let me be able to finish reading 50 articles.
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2012-05-12
(via leprintemps)
Source: well-fed
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2012-05-03
I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?
— Ernest Hemingway (via girlwithoutwings)
Source: quote-book
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(via leilockheart)
Source: leilockheart
