When you use the word ‘flummox,’ for instance, your tongue is rolling across the same territory of every person who has ever spoken that word. It carries every sentiment every person has ever meant when speaking that word, plus your own. They say that every third breath you breathe contains at least one of the same molecules Caesar exhaled as he was dying.

Muriel Rukeyser has said, ‘The world is made of stories, not atoms.’ Think of the words, then, the same words you breathe that have been inhaled and exhaled throughout history. If you’re looking for a link, there it is. They are only shapes and noises formed into meaning. How many shapes and noises have crossed the tongues of those who have come before? And this exact shape and noise has crossed centuries to come to you, fully formed … Words say simultaneously too much and too little. This is why they are perfect for communication, most people’s lives operating in the uncomfortable balance between too much and too little. Nothing more precise.

B.K. Loren, from “Word Hoard” in Parabola, v.28, no.3, August 2003 

(via truth-has-a-liberal-bias)

(via julieandrewsinthecockpit)

(via julieandrewsinthecockpit)

(via montecristos)

It is a pink and blue feeling, as sharp as clear sky; a slight breeze, and the edges of Lake Nakuru would rise like the ruffle at the edge of a skirt; and I am pockmarked with whole-body pinpricks of potentiality. A stretch of my body would surely stretch as far as the sky. The whole universe poised, and I am the agent of any movement.

Binyavanga Wainaina 

Je vous salue, Sarajevo

En un sens, voyez-vous, la peur est tout de même la fille de Dieu, rachetée la nuit du vendredi saint. Elle n’est pas belle à voir, non, tantôt raillée, tantôt maudite, renoncée par tous. Et cependant, ne vous y trompez pas. Elle est au chevet de chaque agonie, elle intercède pour l’homme. 

Car il y a la règle, et il y a l’exception. Il y a la culture qui est de la règle, il y a l’exception qui est de l’art. Tous disent la règle, cigarette, ordinateur, tee-shirt, télévision, tourisme, guerre. Personne ne dit l’exception, cela ne se dit pas, cela s’écrit : Flaubert, Dostoïevski, cela se compose : Gershwin, Mozart, cela se peint : Cézanne, Vermeer, cela s’enregistre : Antonioni, Vigo. Ou cela se vit, et c’est alors l’art de vivre : Srebrenica, Mostar, Sarajevo. Il est de la règle que vouloir la mort de l’exception. Il sera donc de la règle de l’Europe de la Culture d’organiser la mort de l’art de vivre qui fleurit encore à nos pieds.

Quand il faudra fermer le livre. Ce sera sans regretter rien. 

J’ai vu tant de gens si mal vivre. Et tant de gens mourir si bien.

Vedran Smailovic playing ‘Adagio for Vedran Smailovic’ by Nigel Osborne, today at the Holiday Inn Hotel in Sarajevo.

What a strange illusion it is to suppose that beauty is goodness.

Leo Tolstoy

They’ve promised us that dreams come true — but forgot that nightmares are dreams too.

Oscar Wilde

(via elizatittaylor)