Hey you…you’re breathtaking

Paul Cupido ֍ Mount Fuji #12 (2019)

Who was this person Connell anyway? She felt she knew him very intimately, but what reason did she have to feel that? Just because he had kissed her once, with no explanation, and then warned her not to tell anyone?

Sally Rooney ֍ Normal People (2018)

eternal--returned ֍ Cedar Breaks National Monument, Utah (2023)

In the best, the friendliest and simplest relations, flattery or praise is necessary, just as grease is necessary to keep wheels turning.

Leo Tolstoy ֍ War and Peace (1869)

Lalla Essaydi ֍ Bullets Revisited #52 (2023)

I get pleasure from pleasing

qué ganas de pasarse el domingo cogiendo

PAUL MORRISSEY: Nico was spectacular. She had a definite charisma. She was interesting. She was distinctive. She had a magnificent deep voice. She was extraordinary looking. She was tall. She was somebody.

Legs McNeil & Gillian McCain ֍ Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk (1996)

Lana del Rey ֍ Delicious (2012)

Keep them other girls at bay Or I will blow them all away

They're disgusting, I'm delicious They disgust me, I'm delicious Let's discuss this, I'm delicious

CASCA: Who ever knew the heavens menace so?

William Shakespeare ֍ Julius Caesar (1599)

Rod Serling ֍ Burgess Meredith in The Twilight Zone Season 1 Episode 8: Time Enough at Last (1959)

Witness Mr. Henry Bemis, a charter member in the fraternity of dreamers. A bookish little man whose passion is the printed page but who is conspired against by a bank president and a wife and a world full of tongue-cluckers and the unrelenting hands of a clock. But in just a moment, Mr. Bemis will enter a world without bank presidents or wives or clocks or anything else. He'll have a world all to himself - without anyone.

That night they rode through a region electric and wild where strange shapes of soft blue fire ran over the metal of the horses' trappings and the wagonwheels rolled in hoops of fire and little shapes of pale blue light came to perch in the ears of the horses and in the beards of the men. All night sheetlighting quaked sourceless to the west beyond the midnight thunderheads, making a bluish day of the distant desert, the mountains on the sudden skyline stark and black and livid like a land of some other order out there whose true geology was not stone but fear. The thunder moved up from the southwest and lightning lit the desert all about them, blue and barren, great clanging reaches ordered out of the absolute night like some demon kingdom summoned up or changeling land that come the day would leave them neither trace nor smoke nor ruin more than any troubling dream.

Cormac McCarthy ֍ Blood Meridian (1985)

Michel Boisrond ֍ Jane Birkin & Jean-Claude Aumont in Catherine & Co. (1976)

I remember that childhood fear well. I avoided puddles, especially fresh ones, after showers. One of them might be bottomless, after all, even though it looks just like the rest.

I'll step and suddenly be swallowed whole, I'll start rising downwards then even deeper down towards the reflected clouds and maybe farther.

The puddle will dry up, shut over me, I'm trapped for good—where— with a shout that never made it to the surface.

Understanding came only later: not all misadventures fit within the world's laws and even if they wanted to, They couldn't happen.

Wisława Szymborska ֍ "Puddles." Moment (2002)

Bastiaan Woudt ֍ Poise (2022)

Assuming that I was ill, there was reason to believe that I would get better, which gave me some hope of deliverance—a hope irreconcilable with a belief in the reality of the tangled nightmares through which I had just lived.

Stanislaw Lem ֍ Solaris (1961)