Sylvia Plath, 1953
"I will describe my eyes and then begin the story. My eyes are blue and resplendent. Now I will begin the story."
- Jonathan Safran Foer(Everything is Illuminated)
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The Other Way
- Jonathan Safran Foer(Everything is Illuminated)
• Side blogs
• Other
• Ask me anything
The Other Way
![kellyandhepburn:
Happy Mother’s Day!
The one thing I dreamed of in my life was to have children of my own. It always boils down to the same thing [in my life]—not only receiving love but wanting desperately to give it. —Audrey Hepburn](http://24.media.tumblr.com/57e2656d28edb1c4888da4bfea6827a7/tumblr_mmo6cv2JQr1r9fd2wo1_500.png)
Happy Mother’s Day!
The one thing I dreamed of in my life was to have children of my own. It always boils down to the same thing [in my life]—not only receiving love but wanting desperately to give it. —Audrey Hepburn
Ralph Fiennes and Julianne Moore, The End of the Affair (1999)
(Source: bonjour-paige, via end-of-may)
“I was never used to being happy, so that wasn’t something I ever took for granted. You see, I was brought up differently from the average American child because the average child is brought up expecting to be happy. I was a mistake. My mother didn’t want to have me.”
(Source: bluemavor, via twobirdsonabranch)
“Sometimes she seemed like a woman without skin. She felt everything so intensely, had so little capacity to filter out pain that everyday events often seemed unbearable to her. Paradoxically it is also that skinlessness which makes a poet. One must have the gift of language, of course, but even a great gift is useless without the other curse: the eyes that see so sharply they often want to close. Her eyes were astoundingly blue and astoundingly sharp. Nothing escaped her. She saw everything, and since most of what there is to see in the world is painful, she often lived in pain.”
— Erica Jong, Remembering Anne Sexton (via dulcetdecember)
(Source: The New York Times, via nobodyshippie)
“Yet, I didn’t understand that she was intentionally disguising her feelings with sarcasm; that was usually the last resort of people who are timid and chaste of heart, whose souls have been coarsely and impudently invaded; and who, until the last moment, refuse to yield out of pride and are afraid to express their own feelings to you.”
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground. (via petersbourgeoises)
(Source: larmoyante, via ruedebuci)
