John Steinbeck, Sweet Thursday
After all—to have loved, wasn’t that the object?
Love is the only thing in life
but then you can love too much
or the wrong way, you lose
yourself or you lose
or you strangle each other
Maybe the object of love is
to have loved
at one time or another
Like a cinema trailer
watched long ago.
Adrienne Rich, from Transparencies
Listen to me, your body is not a temple. Temples can be destroyed and desecrated. Your body is a forest — thick canopies of maple trees and sweet scented wildflowers sprouting in the underwood. You will grow back, over and over, no matter how badly you are devastated.
Beau Taplin || T e m p l e s
today is the day of uncompromising truths I can write only in the context of stupid stick person
We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.
Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
Twig Fox by Julianna Swaney
It’s very Peter Pan. A girl can be a lost boy, too. I don’t know how to do anything. I don’t know how to drive; I don’t know how to pay taxes; I don’t know how to keep a house; I don’t own any dishes.