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Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.
Pablo Neruda
quote unquote
14 Sunday Feb 2016
Posted in Disaster –- Pain –- Sorrow, quote unquote
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Tag Archives: quote unquote
quote unquote
14 Sunday Feb 2016
Posted in quote unquote
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Wherever you will go,
I will let you down,
But this lullaby goes on.
Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby
quote unquote
14 Sunday Feb 2016
Posted in quote unquote
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I’ve been in Sorrow’s kitchen and licked out all the pots …
Zora Neale Huston
quote unquote
14 Sunday Feb 2016
Posted in quote unquote
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I love myself when I am laughing … and then again when I’m looking mean and impressive.
Zora Neale Hurston
quote unquote
12 Friday Feb 2016
Posted in quote unquote
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I hate snow, living as I do in West Michigan, quote unquote, the Winter Wonderland, which is sort of a bummer
It is snowing outside, thus all my obligations to the outside world are null and void.
quote unquote
12 Friday Feb 2016
Posted in Erotic, quote unquote
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He put her up on a pedestal and she went down on it …
quote unquote
09 Tuesday Feb 2016
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By the ravenous teeth that have smitten
Through the kisses that blossom and bud,
By the lips intertwisted and bitten
Till the foam has a savour of blood,
By the pulse as it rises and falters,
By the hands as they slacken and strain,
I adjure thee, respond from thine altars,
Our Lady of Pain.
Algernon Swinburne, from Dolores (1866)
quote unquote
09 Tuesday Feb 2016
Posted in quote unquote
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Though the kisses are bloody,
Though they sting till it shudder and smart.
Algernon Swinburne, from Dolores (1866)
quote unquote
09 Tuesday Feb 2016
Posted in quote unquote
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I would love to make the Devil weep, if only I truly believed such a rogue existed; but how can something so tailored to 13th Century Europe’s concepts of ‘sin’ be anything more than the fever-dreams of sexually repressed, unwashed old men with bad teeth and syphilis?
quote unquote
09 Tuesday Feb 2016
Posted in Erotic, quote unquote
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Louisa de Momand, marcel proust, quote unquote, spilling one's seed on the dusty ground, the joys of onanism
He who Louisa cannot win
No refuge has but Onan’s sin.
Proust, on his affair with Louisa de Momand
memories of my ghost sista 