"And it came to me then. That we were wonderful travelling companions, but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal on their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they’re nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happen to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we’d be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing."
- Haruki Murakami
"She always had that about her, that look of otherness, of eyes that see things much too far, and of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world. "
- Joanne Harris
"A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves."
- Walt Whitman
In a pit of rock
The sea sucks obsessively,
One hollow the whole sea’s pivot.
- Sylvia Plath
"A ghost in daylight on a crowded street."
- William S. Burroughs
"You will always exist in the universe in one form or another."
- Shunryu Suzuki
Trees outside the window and a big band sound that makes you feel like everything’s okay,
a feeling that lasts for one song maybe,
the parentheses all clicking shut behind you.
The way we move through time and space, or only time.
The way it’s night for many miles, and then suddenly it’s not,
it’s breakfast and you’re standing in the shower for over an hour,
holding the bar of soap up to the light.
I will keep watch. I will water the yard.
Knot the tie and got to work. Unknot the tie and got to sleep.
I sleep. I dream. I make up things that I would never say.
I say them very quietly.
- Richard Siken
When you take your pill
it’s like a mine disaster.
I think of all the people
lost inside of you.
- Richard Brautigan
in my sleep I
placed your hand above my heart,
like I forgot I didn’t live there
- Michelle Tea
Yet no matter how deeply I go down into myself
My God is dark, and like a webbing made
Of a hundred roots, that drink in silence.
- Rainer Maria Rilke