To change skins evolve into new cycles I feel one has to learn to discard. If one changes internally one should not continue to live with the same objects. They reflect one's mind and psyche of yes...
Truth is something which can't be told in a few words. Those who simplify the universe only reduce the expansion of its meaning.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds it dies of weariness, of withe...
أنا دمية شدتها أصابع غير مدربة ، مُزقت ونُزعت مني ذراعاي بقسوة ، ذراع ميتة ، والأخرى تكتب بحماس مفرط وسط الفراغ
أشعر وكأنه قد حكم عليّ بقدر مشؤوم هو أن أكون متفرجة فقط
When I am happy it is so rare. I need to dwell on it, to contemplate it. What a hunger, a craving for beautiful things.
Sometimes we reveal ourselves when we are least like ourselves.
She was now afraid to yield to passion, and because she could not yield to the larger impulses it became essential also to not yield to the small ones, even if her adversary were in the right. She was...
I'm awaiting a lover. I have to be rent and pulled apart and live according to the demons and the imagination in me. I'm restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars agai...
Does she know I feel immobile and fixed, lost in her?
What I cannot love I overlook.
لا أستطيع أن أكون واثقة من أي حدث أو أي مكان ، وحدها عزلتي أنا متأكدة منها
Saw him as a saint. His attitude silenced me. From that moment on, if he had been brought back to me dead on a stretcher, I would not have cared. He cannot hurt me any more.
You haven't loved yet, he said. You've only been trying to love; beginning to love. Trust alone is not love, illusion is not love, desire alone is not love. All these were paths leading you out of you...
What I corrupted was what is called the truth in favour of a more marvelous world. I could always improve on the facts.[...] in self-defense, I accuse the writers of fairy-tales. Not hunger, not cruel...
We efface an hour by passionate love, without twists, without aftertaste. When it is finished, it is not finished, we lie still in each other's arms lulled by our love, by tenderness -- sensuality in...
This is not to worry you, Henry, it is just that I can’t keep from saying it, that I am overflowing, desperately in love with you as I never was with anyone.
There are books which we read early in life, which sink into our consciousness and seem to disappear without leaving a trace. And then one day we find, in some summing-up of our life and put attitudes...
The old concept of chronological, orderly, symmetrical development of character died when it was discovered that the unconscious motivations are entirely at odds with fabricated conventions. Human bei...
The light was crude. It made Artaud's eyes shrink into darkness, as they are deep-set. This brought into relief the intensity of his gestures. He looked tormented. His hair, rather long, fell at times...