Tumpik
soracities · 12 hours ago
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It is false to say that frontiers do not exist. They do exist, temporarily. But at the same time there exists a force of creativity and truth uniting us all, in humility and in pride at the same time.
Albert Camus, in a letter to Boris Pasternak
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soracities · 14 hours ago
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The mystic Simone Weil wrote to a friend on another continent, ‘Let us love this distance, which is thoroughly woven with friendship, since those who do not love each other are not separated.’ For Weil, love is the atmosphere that fills and colors the distance between herself and her friend. Even when that friend arrives on the doorstep, something remains impossibly remote: when you step forward to embrace them your arms are wrapped around mystery, around the unknowable, around that which cannot be possessed.
Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost (via ecrituria)
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soracities · 15 hours ago
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Andrey Tarkovsky: A Cinema Prayer (Andrey A. Tarkovsky, 2019)
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soracities · 15 hours ago
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Stories with weight to them have what C.G. Jung terms ‘the lament of the dead’, which in our frenetic culture we can no longer have time to hear. Most indigenous cultures will tell you that this world belongs to the dead, that’s where we’re headed. So mythology for me involves a conversation with the dead, with what you might call ancestors.Whatever we are facing now we need to have a root system embedded in weather patterns, the presences of animals, our dreams, and the ones who came before us. Myth is insistent that when there is a crisis, genius lives on the margins not the centre. If we are constantly using the language of politics to combat the language of politics at some point the soul grows weary and turns its head away because we are not allowing it into the conversation, and by denying soul we are ignoring what the Mexicans call the river beneath the river. We’re not listening to the thoughts of the world. We’re only listening to our own neurosis and our own anxiety.
Martin Shaw.  (via saltwaterhoney)
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soracities · 16 hours ago
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what’s not to love
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soracities · 17 hours ago
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soracities · 18 hours ago
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Ugly, Bitter, and True by Suzanne Rivecca
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soracities · 18 hours ago
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I always have such need to merely talk to you. Even when I have nothing to talk about – with you I just seem to go right ahead and sort of invent it. I invent it for you. Because I never seem to run out of tenderness for you and because I need to feel you near. Excuse the bad writing and excuse the emotional overflow. What I mean to say, perhaps, is that, in a way, I am never empty of you; not for a moment, an instant, a single second.
Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West (via violentwavesofemotion)
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soracities · a day ago
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Everything is calm again. The volcano is slumbering. Even our poor nerves are slumbering. We are not happy, but we feel momentary peace. We have just witnessed our life’s desert in all its terrifying grandeur, and now the desert is blooming. The oases are few and far between, but they do exist. And although the desert is vast, we know that the greatest deserts hold the most oases. But to discover this, we have to pay dearly. The price is a volcanic eruption. Costly, but nothing less destructive exists. Therefore, we ought to bless the volcanoes, thank them because their light is dazzling and their fire is scorching. Thank them for blinding us, because only when we are blind can we gain our full sight. And thank them for burning us, because only as burnt children can we give others our warmth.
Stig Dagerman, A Moth to a Flame (Burnt Child), tr. Benjamin Mier-Cruz
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soracities · a day ago
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June Jordan
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soracities · a day ago
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to sleep
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soracities · a day ago
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Eliza Griswold, from "Flood", Wideawake Field: Poems
[Text ID: "Love surprises us. It ends."]
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soracities · a day ago
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pen pals but instead of letters we send each other our favourite books and write notes about why it affected us the way it did 
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soracities · a day ago
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“zweisamkeit”
— (noun) An untranslatable German word, zweisamkeit is described as the togetherness and intimacy you experience with someone else.
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soracities · a day ago
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“String Theory says that all the notes on a vibrating string correspond to a particle. That to an electron is actually a rubber band; a very tiny rubber band. but if you twang this rubber band and the rubber band vibrates at a different frequency, it turns into a quark. And you twang it again and it turns into a neutrino. So, how many musical notes are there? An infinite. How many musical notes are there on a string? An infinite number. And that may explain why we have so many subatomic particles. They are nothing but musical notes. So, physics are nothing but the laws of harmonies on a string. Chemistry is nothing but the melodies you can play on vibrating strings. And the mind of God, the mind of God that Einstein worked on for the last 30 years of his life, the mind of God would be cosmic music. Cosmic music resonating through 11 dimensional hyperspace.”
— — Micho Kaku, Theoretical Physicist
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soracities · 2 days ago
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Henri Biva (1848 - 1928) 
Villeneuve-l'Étang embrumé
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soracities · 2 days ago
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I feel some kind of foreign body in there, in my brain, like a fine eyelash in the eye—the rest of you doesn't feel it, but the eye with the eyelash in it can't forget about it for a second...
Yevgeny Zamyatin, We (trans. Natasha Randall)
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