February 2012
1 tag
Derrida, Grammatology
intellectualvalentinesday:
You are my love, yet you are so much than the utterance of “love.” While language can be deconstructed, my feeling for you is transcendent.
1 tag
danielnolan:
I often looked at myself with furious discontent, which verged on loathing, and so I inwardly attributed the same feeling to everyone. I hated my face, for instance: I thought it disgusting, and even suspected that there was something base in my expression, and so every day when I turned up at the office I tried to behave as independently as possible, and to assume a lofty...
danielnolan:
Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch me soon, now. What is that word known to all men? I am quiet here alone. Sad too. Touch, touch me. James Joyce, Ulysses
danielnolan:
She was breathing deeply, she forgot the cold, the weight of beings, the insane or static life, the long anguish of living or dying. After so many years running from fear, fleeing crazily, uselessly, she was finally coming to a halt. At the same time she seemed to be recovering her roots, and the sap rose anew in her body, which was no longer trembling. Pressing her whole belly...
2 tags
“I paint because I am a woman.
(It’s a logical necessity.)
If painting is...”
– Marlene Dumas (via human-activities)
