Everything we touch
burns away, whether we give ourselves
or not, the same April day spreads to thinness,
the same winter afternoon
thickens to dark. I was thirty-eight years old.
Every time a door opened
I expected you. For months I hid your clothes
stiff with blood.
Skin Divers, Anne Michaels
The division of one day from the next must be one of the most profound peculiarities of life on this planet. We are not condemned to sustained flights of being, but are constantly refreshed by little holidays from ourselves. We are intermittent creatures, always falling to little ends and rising to new beginnings. Our soon-tired consciousness is meted out in chapters, and that the world will look quite different tomorrow is, both for our comfort and our discomfort, usually true. How marvelously too night matches sleep, sweet image of it, so nearly apportioned to our need.
Iris Murdoch
Iris Murdoch
este video deu-me uma vontade imensa de ir para a cama ouvir a música da Björk até adormecer
A journey across the stars and heavens through antiquated astronomical diagrams.
A journey across the stars and heavens through antiquated astronomical diagrams.
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