February 2012
229 posts
“The purpose of dancing isn’t to end up at a particular spot on the floor. The...”
– Dr Wayne W. Dyer (via sirenrising)
“I am a memory joined to your veins.”
– Rosa Jamali, Iranian poet (via indigenousdialogues)
“What I hate is ignorance, smallness of imagination, the eye that sees no farther...”
– Egyptian Book of the Dead (via stellablu)
“Music is the mediator between the spiritual & the sensual life.”
– Ludwig van Beethoven (via myown-bestfriend)
“Both dreams and myths are important communications from ourselves to ourselves....”
– Erich Fromm (via psych-quotes)
“Things are as they are. Looking out into the universe at night, we make no...”
– Alan Watts (via halcyon-haze)
Extract: Black Mamba Boy by Nadifa Mohamed →
The opening chapter of Nadifa Mohamed’s debut novel.
“But, by renouncing her in this way, he set her apart, making her into something...”
– Flaubert, Madame Bovary (via lovelyknots)
“And then, does it not seem to you that the mind travels more freely on this...”
– Madame Bovary (via howtogetback)
3 tags
“Your imagination is the single most important asset you possess. Your...”
– Rob Brezsny (via observedintoexistence)
You are a Sorcerer so work your magic on the world
(via ifoundoutatzeropoint)
“Psychedelic experience is only a glimpse of genuine mystical insight, but a...”
– Alan Watts (via skaterboytae)
so tired of thinking…over active brains are physically tiring!
“We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love...”
– Charles Bukowski (via andyclash)
“Tea Cake, with the sun for a shawl. Of course he wasn’t dead. He could never be...”
– Their Eyes Were Watching God (via restoried)
“ [A]nd no race has a monopoly on beauty, on intelligence, on strength […]”
– Aime Cesaire (via blackintellect)
“My negritude is not a stone
nor a deafness flung against the clamor of the day...”
– Aimé Césaire (via mttblck)
“And then one fine day the bourgeoisie is awakened by a terrific boomerange...”
– Aimé Césaire, Discourse on Colonialsm, translated by Joan Pinkham, Monthly Review, New York, 2000, p. 36. As quoted by Frantz Fanon in Black Skin, White Masks, chapter 4. (via poemsofthedead)
