October 2010
15 posts
1 tag
Oct 29th
274 notes
3 tags
Oct 29th
48 notes
1 tag
Oct 27th
44 notes
4 tags
Oct 21st
30 notes
3 tags
On New York
I never had intimate friends, and the few who came close are in New York. By which I mean they’re dead, because that’s where I suppose condemned souls go in order not to endure the truth of their past lives. — Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores
Oct 15th
40 notes
3 tags
Oct 14th
22 notes
1 tag
Oct 14th
126 notes
3 tags
Oct 14th
12 notes
4 tags
Oct 14th
62 notes
3 tags
Oct 9th
21 notes
6 tags
Oct 9th
25 notes
3 tags
On memory
It is a triumph of life that old people lose their memories of inessential things, though memory does not often fail with regard to things that are of real interest to us. Cicero illustrated this with the stroke of a pen: No old man forgets where he has hidden his treasure. — Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores
Oct 9th
36 notes
2 tags
“Faust complained about having two souls in his breast, but I harbor a whole...”
– Otto von Bismarck (via The New Yorker)
Oct 4th
18 notes
1 tag
Oct 3rd
179 notes
2 tags
Oct 3rd
66 notes