Nothing is implied here. Except the possibility that everything is connected.
When it comes to coolness, nothing the human race has ever invented is more cool than a book”.
They coil around each other, the light and the darkness, and they absorb each other continuously, yet they never cancel each other out.
People tend to take everything too seriously. Especially themselves.
Some folks hide, and some folks seek, and seeking, when it’s mindless, neurotic, desperate, or pusillanimous can be a form of hiding. But there are folks who want to know and aren’t afraid to look and won’t turn tail should they find it – and if they never do, they’ll have a good time anyway because nothing, neither the terrible truth nor the absence of it, is going to cheat them out of one honest breath of earth’s sweet gas.
Breath Properly, Stay Curious, and Always Eat Your Beets!
The uncle ignored Gracie’s father. ‘In any event,’ he went on, ’when brewers combine hops with yeast and grain and water, and allow the mixture to ferment – to rot – it magically produces an elixir so gassy with blue-collar cheer, so regal with glints of gold, so titillating with potential mischief, so triumphantly refreshing, that it seizes the soul and thrusts it toward that ethereal plateau where, to paraphrase Baudelaire, all human whimsies float and merge.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt more disoriented and alone. Or more thoroughly, serenely, at home. Every true romantic will know what I mean.
In a patriarchal society, the abiding sexuality of the healthy female was obliged to wear a prim disguise.
Can’t they comprehend that not ever’thing’s done for a paycheck? That sometimes you just make a thing ’cause you wanna see how it’ll turn out, ’cause you have a feeling in your gut that it oughta be made?
We each took a fierce delight in introducing the other to some new idea or development, the next amazing artist or record album, always hustling to out-avant the other’s garde.
Liberty, the very opposite of ownership and control, cannot, then, result from political action, either at the polls or the barricades, but rather evolves out of attitude. If it results from anything, it may be levity.
Among the Haida Indians of the Pacific Northwest, the verb for “making poetry” is the same as the verb “to breathe.
Amanda became pregnant during a fierce thunderstorm. “Was it the lightning or the lover?” she was sometimes heard to muse. When her son was born with electrical eyes, people no longer thought her foolish.
My grandmother,” he said, “confessed to me once that before she’d ever let herself become deeply involved with a man, she’d make sure to get him drunk. Maestra claims you can never know who a person really is unless you’ve seen how they behave when under the spell of Bacchus. It’s a hard and fast rule with no exceptions: a bad drunk will make a bad husband. Or wife, for that matter. Sobriety for some people, is a thin and temporary disguise.
Tequila, scorpion honey, harsh dew of the doglands, essence of Aztec, crema de cacti; tequila, oily and thermal like the sun in solution; tequila, liquid geometry of passion; Tequila, the buzzard god who copulates in midair with the ascending souls of dying virgins; tequila, firebug in the house of good taste; O tequila, savage water of sorcery, what confusion and mischief your sly, rebellious drops do generate!
Definitions are limiting. Limitations are deadening. To limit oneself is a kind of suicide. To limit another is a kind of murder.
And the message, no matter how entertainingly couched, is invariably the same: to be special, you must conform; to be happy, you must consume.
I’ve long tended to regard the interruption of complacency as a kind of public service.
What was it like in there? Inside a daisy?” My answer: “Like a cathedral made of mathematics and honey.