Just occurred to me: This would make a pretty cool tattoo. (But it’s a Nook ad, apparently?)

Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you’ve got to say, and say it hot.

D.H. Lawrence (via theimpossiblecool)

Algernon: Why is it that at a bachelor’s establishment the servants invariably drink the champagne? I ask merely for information.
Lane: I attribute it to the superior quality of the wine, sir. I have often observed that in married households the champagne is rarely of a first-rate brand.
Algernon: Good Heavens! Is marriage so demoralizing as that?

Oscar Wilde. The Importance of Being Earnest. London: Smithers (1898)

As an aside, the witty dialogues of the play remind us that in “traditional marriages,” consent was mainly to be asked from the young woman’s guardian.

A story is a letter that the author writes to himself, to tell himself things that he would be unable to discover otherwise.

Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind (via quotes-shape-us)

I cannot remember the books I’ve read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

You are still young, free.. Do yourself a favor. Before it’s too late, without thinking too much about it first, pack a pillow and a blanket and see as much of the world as you can. You will not regret it. One day it will be too late.

Jhumpa Lahiri, The Namesake 

Make it a rule never to give a child a book you would not read yourself.

George Bernard Shaw 

millionsmillions:

Ever spent the whole day reading The Hunger Games and then found yourself paranoid that a tribute was following you? Don’t worry; you aren’t crazy. Turns out that reading a really gripping novel can cause our brains to believe we are in the body of the protagonist, and this effect can last for days after reading according to a scientific study.

“Not A Thing For The Marketplace, A Thing For Its Own Sake”

Mark Yakich answered the question “what is a poem?” for the Atlantic:

When we come across a poem—any poem—our first assumption should not be to prejudice it as a thing of beauty, but simply as a thing. The linguists and theorists tells us that language is all metaphor in the first place. The word “apple” has no inherent link with that bright red, edible object on my desk right now. But the intricacies of signifiers and signifieds fade from view after college. Because of its special status—set apart in a magazine or a book, all that white space pressing upon it—a poem still has the ability to surprise, if only for a moment which is outside all the real and virtual, the aural and digital chatter that envelopes it, and us.

I highly recommend the essay. Not sure if I agree on all points, but it is excellent grease for the machine, prey for the wild animal. 

It didn’t seem to be summer any more. I could feel the winter shaking my bones and banging my teeth together, and the big white hotel towel I had dragged down with me lay under my head numb as a snowdrift.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via larmoyante)